


Doctor's Orders

by ChuckTingle



Category: Hatoful Kareshi | Hatoful Boyfriend
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, assorted OCs - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 18:33:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 28
Words: 65,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5174726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChuckTingle/pseuds/ChuckTingle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Please tell us about one experiment Dr. Iwamine conducted on Sakazaki-senpai.</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"How about it, senpai?"</p><p>"You make it sound like I'm a lab rat or something... I can only say that I haven't yet fallen into any traps with lasting consequences."</p><p>[ At this point I'm mainly writing this for my own enjoyment, but I hope others can enjoy it too! You'll just need to bear with the inclusion of some OCs. ]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Spark

**Author's Note:**

> **  
> **  
> Testimonials:  
>  "That's fuckef uop." - ii
> 
> "How can it be so bad and yet so good?" - [Nico H.](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nhitori/pseuds/Nhitori)
> 
> "My heart goes out for Yuuya this chapter u_u;;; (wait, that's every chapter)" - Selina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I rehearse my greeting.  
> I say hello without too much intent.  
> She gonna think I'm dreamy,  
> [She'll wanna show me off to all her friends.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tb_n0ok0ovk)

# Begin: First Year

In the world of a secret agent, it’s unsafe to have expectations. Anything could fall out of your grasp, the situation could turn on you, all within a matter of seconds. Your life may depend on your reactions. One wrong move, and you’re Christmas dinner. Sakazaki Yuuya was new to this world, but it was the one he had chosen to live in. Somehow, he would figure out how to survive. He was not going to die. He had so much left to do.

This was the first official mission he’d been sent on, and it was by far the biggest. Every other job he’d gone on was still as a trainee, not yet a full-fledged spy. However, after two rigorous years of non-stop training, he had finally gotten his official title. He was a sexy and suave agent already, and he had yet to turn seventeen. A new school, a new country, and a new life. He was excited. Nervous, but excited.

St. Pigeonations was a prestigious all-boys academy founded by a bird-brained eccentric man with a fondness for the avian. Although his choice of a name was questionable at best, and often drew cries of protest from certain Christian communities for slandering the name of sainthood, the school did indeed end up as grand as the founder had hoped it would. Boys who graduated carried on to lead successful lives, nearly without fail. Yuuya wondered if he would be one of them, or if his line of work would lead him astray.

“You’re gonna be great at whatever you do, kid,” Leone, his mentor for the last couple years, had told him when he expressed his concerns. Putting a hand on the young boy’s shoulder, he cracked a smirk, “You’ll be a Bright and Massive success.”

Those words guided Yuuya as he stepped into the large, looming, school for the first time. The sights were overwhelming. Everywhere around him, older boys traversed the halls, familiar already with every corridor, nook and cranny. Back in France, his school had been somewhat small. His family was by no means poor, but it was certainly not rich. Not like his brother… He missed his brother.

He had not spoken to his brother in a long time.

_Ah, Yuuya! This is no time for thoughts like those! The most brilliant time of your life begins now! Stay focused._

This mission of his was rather precarious. He was to attend St. Pigeonations as a regular student, but he was tailing a certain suspicious figure. One Iwamine Shuu, a character whose unethical medical experiments were rumored to kill students on the regular. His victims were supposedly known to show up as leather notebooks in the school store, or meat in the cafeteria. Above all, and Yuuya’s main concern, was the evidence pointing him to having ties with an extremist organization that advocates for a segregated society at the least, with aims for genocide of “impure races” eventually. Even just the thought sickened him. 

They called themselves the Hawks. Their focus? Extermination.

They were relatively low-key at the moment, the strongest of their protests, riots, and crimes having faded years ago. However, intel from Yuuya’s organization had pointed towards an increase in activity… plenty of which centered around this seemingly-normal school, and centered even more so on Iwamine Shuu… 

Iwamine Shuu… It was odd to call him that. Although surely the first name Yuuya had known him by was an alias as well, having his prime target change names on him was quite the bother to our budding spy. During the beginning of his training, he had been known as Isa Souma, and before that it seemed he possessed even more names. Rumor even had it that his true family name was Ichijou, tying him in with the founder of the school. Perhaps they were related.

It was a mystery, and one Yuuya desperately wanted to solve.

As much as he would never admit it, he was nervous. Luckily, he knew how to fix that. Taking a deep breath, Yuuya recounted the words Leone had told him as reassurance.

“Your mission, Sakazaki, is to infiltrate St. Pigeonations Academy and orbit around this Iwamine Shuu. Become his shadow. I’ll be stationed in the maintenance office, so you can see me whenever you need. All information should be relayed back there in any possible clandestine manner. Be warned, though, agent-- one mistake and your life could easily come to an end.”

“Aha, indeed! That is a truth I have accepted from the beginning of my training, Leone. I will not let you down.”

“Good kid, you are. I sure hope life doesn’t kick that spark out of you.”

_My spark will never go out, Leone. Were it possible, it would have been doused long ago._

Closing his eyes, Yuuya put on his brightest, suavest smile and blazoned his complexion with a genuine confidence. Day one of classes would be a breeze, and as soon as they were over, he would visit this doctor, attempting to win his favor. He couldn’t be as terrifying as the rumors said he was, could he? Nothing could stop him! The world was his oyster!

Glancing at his cell phone, he realized it was nearly time for class. _Non, non, non… being late on the first day? Unacceptable._ He trekked down the hallway, no longer intimidated by the upperclassmen, even vouching to make eye contact with them. When he made it to his homeroom classroom, he entered and took his seat as calmly and cooly as ever. He even saw eyes turn his way. They were all freshmen, all new, but he was foreign, and he would admit with no modesty that he was also intriguing. As the bell rang to signify the start of classes, Yuuya was feeling certain that it was going to be an amazing year.

Sexy and Suave meets Bright and Massive… They’ll do what they came here for, even if it takes all three of his years.

Maybe picking up a few dates along the way.


	2. Mongrel

By the end of his first day, Yuuya had already made a good number of friends. The severe lack of girls had been somewhat disappointing, but as a dangerously charming bisexual, he only took it as a challenge. Would he find Mr. Right? So far, his prospects were looking a little dim. Sure, he flirted, and he wouldn’t mind a fling or two, but none of the boys he’d befriended really seemed like they’d be any match for him. Long-term, at least… that’s not to say he wouldn’t catch a boyfriend or two.

But what was he thinking? He had bigger things to focus on.

At break a few second-years had tried to give him a hard time, tossing a few Japanese wordplays he didn’t quite follow at him. He simply shrugged it off, calling them immature in French and walking away. It seemed that got at least one person’s attention with that, as someone in his grade asked to eat lunch with him. He accepted kindly.

Truly, he was off to a magnificent start. He couldn’t wait to relay the stories to Leone! Admittedly, he was already having a bit of trouble following his classes, but he was certain he’d be able to pull it all together. Besides, a kind second-year had already offered to tutor him. His smile had barely faded all day, and even his history teacher had told him he liked his attitude. All in all, he felt content with his first day of high school when he exited his last class of the day, bag slung casually over his shoulder.

“Sakazaki-kun!” a semi-familiar voice called out to him. If he were being honest, he would admit that the voice barely rang a bell. He’d spoken with plenty of people today and none had been particularly memorable. Turning his head to face where the voice was coming from, he waved a hand. He couldn’t quite put a name to the face either, but he noted that it was someone he’d deemed earlier as handsome.

“ _Salut, mon amie!_ ” He greeted merrily, very skillfully dodging the use of a name, “What brings you to my side this afternoon? Do you wish to go on a luxurious dinner date?”

“Uh,” The boy didn’t even blush. Yuuya sighed. This would be harder than he thought, “N- No, I was just wondering if you wanted to come with me and Kamiya to get some sushi.”

“Oooh, sounds _magnifique!_ ” Yuuya mused, closing his eyes and dreamily leaning his cheek on his hand. After a sufficiently dramatic pause, he lowered his hand and opened his eyes, casually inquiring, “When?”

“Right now. We’re heading over as soon as Kamiya’s out of the bathroom.”

“Oh, well count me i-” Yuuya began to accept before realizing he had obligations, “Mmm… unfortunately, _mon amie_ , I have some business to attend to today. Perhaps another time, _non_?”

The boy’s lips tilted into a smirk and he chuckled, presumably at the way he so casually tossed French into his Japanese, “Haha, yeah. Another time.” Another boy, presumably Kamiya, stepped out of the nearby restroom and called a name. Tatsuya. The kid he’d been talking to nodded at him and waved goodbye to Yuuya. He made a mental note to remember that next time, lest he make a fool of himself. Tatsuya may not be as interested in Yuuya as a romantic prospect as Yuuya was in him, but there was no harm in trying his hand. He’d managed to get a few supposed heterosexuals to admit they swung both ways in the past… he would not give up yet. Not until he was rejected well and proper.

_Now, where was I? Ah, yes. Back to the task at hand._

The infirmary was on the second floor, which had the potential to be somewhat intimidating given that said floor was also the location of the second-years’ classrooms. This being said, it didn’t bother him in the slightest now that he had faced the day with his head held high. Besides, most students had either headed home or to sign up for extracurriculars of their own by now so the hallway was relatively clear. Inhaling calmly, Yuuya knocked on the infirmary door.

No response.

Furrowing his brow slightly, Yuuya knocked again.

No response.

 _Odd…_ he mused silently, _I’d think he wouldn’t have left already._

Just in case, Yuuya tried turning the knob. It was locked. He wasn’t surprised. It would be a little unsafe to leave it open, giving students easy access to drugs and medical supplies.

“...Would you be looking for me?”

Suddenly, above the dull murmur of conversation, a deep, authoritative sort of voice uttered those words. Yuuya whirled around, startled, finding himself face to fa- no, face to neck, about, with a tall man dressed in a sweater-vest and lab coat. Slowly looking up, Yuuya made eye contact with him. Immediately, his draw dropped slightly. Iwamine Shuu. The man he was sent to tail.

Already, he felt that he was at an unfair disadvantage having been sneaked up on. Whereas entering the infirmary of his own free will would have given him proper control of the situation, it seemed he’d been one-upped already. No matter. A lead does not guarantee a victory. The doctor’s eyes were cold and distant, but they were trained directly on Yuuya’s as though they saw through him and into something beyond. Yuuya gulped.

“ _S- Salut,_ Doctor Iwamine,” He said cheerfully, adjusting his glasses with a smile, “Yes, I was looking for you… Are you busy?”

“I am always busy.”

His tone was cold and emotionless, yet it seemed there was a hint of malice in it. Perhaps that was only Yuuya’s spy’s intuition, but the rumors hinted otherwise. Iwamine Shuu was genuinely just an eerie, mysterious person.

“My name is Sakazaki Yuuya. I’m a first-year.”

“Mm. I can’t say I really care. Now please, step aside if you will. I have work to do.”

Yuuya was somewhat taken aback by how brisk and rude he had been, but admittedly, it had been in his profile. This was a mere difficulty he would overcome, and he politely slipped to the side.

“My apologies, doctor…”

Yuuya watched quietly as Iwamine pulled a key out of his pocket, meticulously turning the key in the lock. Not many would have picked up on it, but Yuuya noticed that there was barely even friction when he inserted and turned the key. He didn’t even poke around for the keyhole. It was a very mechanical, nearly perfect process, and frankly, Yuuya was impressed. He was not about to let himself be swayed, though. Iwamine was still highly suspicious, and in fact, his potential perfectionist tendencies only backed up the theory that he was up to no good and somehow managing to hide it.

How could one be so outwardly suspicious, and yet so devoid of incriminating evidence? 

Without looking back, Iwamine opened the door and passed through it, letting it swing shut behind him. Yuuya quickly stuck his foot in the door, softly prying it open again and peering his head in before it could fully close. The doctor truly was a strange fellow, even just judging from appearance. With his long, brown hair tied back with a black ribbon and thin-framed oval glasses, he looked more like he should be working for Benjamin Franklin than a Japanese extremist organization. He made his way over to his desk and stopped short before sitting down.

“You’re still there,” he spoke softly, almost menacingly, although his words were innocent as words could be. As though he didn’t care at all, he sat down in his chair and started rummaging through the papers he’d been carrying.

“Aha… you got me!” Yuuya laughed sheepishly, sliding through the open door to fully enter the room, “Please, sir. Allow me to properly introduce myself.”

“You have already done so,” Iwamine assured him, not taking his eyes off his paper, “And I do not care to hear it again.”

“Oh, doctor,” Yuuya said with a frown, “You need not be so stodgy! I shall repeat: I am Sakazaki Yuuya, a first-year. I have always been fascinated with the medical field and was wondering if you would not be bothered to take me under your wing. As an apprentice, of sorts!”

Iwamine raised his eyebrows. Good. He wasn’t just ignoring him. He laughed, a strange, haughty laugh, which you would think would be louder than it is. What should have been a strong, hearty chuckle, was quiet and almost melodic, like a haunting funeral dirge, “An apprentice, you say? So you desire to be an aide?”

“Indeed,” Yuuya confirmed with a wink and a finger pistol, “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

“I must say,” Iwamine mused, suddenly fascinated with staring at the boy he had just moments ago refused to look at, “...you do look rather familiar.”

Briefly, Yuuya wondered if his cover had been blown. Day one and he already recognized him? What if he had some inside information that not even Leone knew had been leaked? Despite his frayed nerves, he maintained a calm, casual and composed demeanor as the doctor examined him, “Is that so? They do say all Frenchmen look very much alike!” He was only half French, but he liked to play it up.

“No…” he murmured, that one word alone ringing of a knowledge Yuuya ached to understand, “It’s certainly more than that… wait. Your name…”

“Yes?” Yuuya said, “Sakazaki Yuuya, sir.” Was he deaf or just forgetful?

A knowing, nearly maniacal smirk pulled up Iwamine’s cheeks. Yuuya’s heart raced, but he kept up his cool façade. Iwamine nodded slowly, “Ah… yes… Sakazaki Yuuya. Do pardon me for forgetting… It has been a very long time.”

Yuuya bit the inside of his cheek. What was he going on about? They had never met, or at least not in his memory. Was he simply messing with him in an attempt to draw him into unfamiliar territory? Well, it wouldn’t work. Shrugging, Yuuya laughed and pushed his glasses up on his nose. In truth, he had only learned those bespectacled mannerisms because he thought they looked cool. His glasses were fake, after all.

“Did you know me when I was a baby? Was I cute? I’m sure I was sexy and luxurious even then!”

Iwamine did not seem amused, but Yuuya kept laughing nonetheless. After all, when a joke crashes and burns, the only way to not feel down about it is to laugh at it yourself. His soft laughter was interrupted by a simple and short remark, “Come back tomorrow. We will discuss the conditions of our… arrangement.”

Yuuya grinned, having almost forgotten his prior ominous comment, “Certainly, Doctor Iwamine! Same time, same place?”

“Yes. Now please escort yourself out. I have much to think about…”

His words were eerie, quickly reminding Yuuya once again of that strange sense that Iwamine knew something he shouldn’t. Was it secret information? Would he need to kill him in order to protect it? There was a lot he was ready and willing to do as a hero of justice… but it didn’t seem right. It seemed like it was something more than just intel. It seemed… personal.

“Ahaha, of course, sir,” Yuuya said, disregarding his concern for the time being and nodding his head as he opened the door, “Consider me gone. Until tomorrow, doctor! _Adieu!_ ” With a little flourish, he slipped back out the door.

The doctor’s voice was still audible as the door swung shut, “Until tomorrow…”

_Mongrel._

Yuuya froze right as the door swung shut behind him. Mongrel? Had he imagined that… or had the doctor said it? The hallway was still abuzz with casual conversation, and it seemed that nothing had changed. Except it had changed. Yuuya felt different… Mongrel… had he said mongrel? He shook his head. The odd infirmary atmosphere was simply getting to him.

Perhaps he should go talk to Leone. It would be a good idea to check in and confirm that all was going well. Sexy and Suave, roll out. On to the maintenance room.


	3. Promise

The maintenance room… it sure seemed a weird place to set up base camp, but if janitor was the cover-up job Leone had gotten, it was what they were going to have to work with. It was the one on the fourth floor, right? Yuuya’s thoughts had been a little scattered since leaving the infirmary, but he was about ninety-five percent sure it was the fourth floor indeed. Trusting his intuition, Yuuya made his way upstairs and miraculously found the room. Luckily, most people were gone by now, particularly from the upper floors which contained no core classrooms, only electives and supplementary facilities. Even so, he checked around him to make sure the coast was clear before he knocked rhythmically on the door. It was a particular pattern, used as a simple but effective code.

Within a minute, the door opened and a familiar face greeted him. Yuuya’s face lit up. They hadn’t seen each other in a few weeks, since they’d made the their trips to Japan separately to deter any suspicion.

“Leone!” Yuuya exclaimed, beaming like a child with ice cream, “Ah, what a sight for sore eyes you are! It’s been a good day, but long. I could certainly use a rest.” He had lapsed into French at the sight of his mentor, and Leone chuckled at his exuberance. It was pretty endearing that he craved so desperately to converse in his native tongue. It was easier for Leone, anyway. He was nowhere near as good at Japanese as Yuuya was.

“Haha, calm down Sakazaki,” he told him softly, “It’s only day one. Are you going to cop out on me already?”

“No, sir!” Yuuya laughed, stepping further into the room and examining it. It was… homey. Messy. A lot like Leone’s quarters back at basecamp. To be honest, it almost felt like they were back there for a moment. In fact, it seemed to have other rooms branching off of it, and was big enough to be a home… wait a moment, was he living there? Yuuya furrowed his brow and looked up at Leone, “Is this your house?”

“Yes,” Leone said simply, smiling and opening his arms as though to show it off, “Do you like it? I find it rather quaint.”

“It suits you,” Yuuya agreed, making himself at home on an old, puffy sofa and exhaling happily, “I think it’s going to be a good few years, Leone. You and I. Out on the job together. Sexy and Suave~ Do you like that? I’ve been testing it out. I don’t quite think it’s quite as good as Bright and Massive, though. That one really has a charm I just can’t--”

“Sakazaki.”

“Yes?”

“Please, give me a moment to talk.”

“Oh, ahaha, sorry!” Yuuya chuckled, face turning slightly red. It was moments like this that made him realize just how quiet Leone was. Maybe he just knew him well, but it always seemed like Leone’s true personality was often overshadowed by his soft-spoken and reclusive nature. But such is the way of a spy, he supposed… would he be like that, someday? Although his smile remained, his expression hardened slightly, “We do have serious stuff to discuss don’t we?”

“Indeed. First of all, how did the first step of our infiltration mission go?”

“Smooth as always!” Yuuya assured him, winking and flashing a thumbs-up, “Could you truly expect any less from me? I’m your dashing protégé!”

“This is true, Sakazaki, but you know better than to think that way. Was anything off about him when you talked? I need a detailed account. Your analysis skills are still lacking compared to mine, so I’ll have to see what I can do from your eye-witness description,” Leone spoke gruffly and seriously, reaching over to the coffee table and picking up a yellow notepad and paper. He’d joined him on the couch, sitting a few feet away, almost on the edge, right leg crossed over his left. He balanced the notepad on his knee and turned to face Yuuya, ready to write whatever he said.

Taking a deep breath, Yuuya nodded, “Right, sir. I’ll tell you everything. So when I got to the infirmary, nobody was there. I- Wait, sir…”

Leone stopped from where he was slowly, painstakingly scrawling kana across the page, “Yes?”

“Why are you writing this down in Japanese?”

“Simple,” He smiled brightly, which made Yuuya feel at ease. It always did. “I’ll speak in French with you, of course, but I have to get used to this new lifestyle. Reading and writing in Japanese will help me get better at speaking it, no?”

“You’re right, you’re right,” Yuuya groaned, unable to hold back an embarrassed smirk, “You always are.”

“Not always, Sakazaki. You have your own mind too, you know… Start coming up with your own conclusions. I won’t always be there for you to answer your questions.”

Pouting slightly, Yuuya sighed and crossed his arms behind his head. The idea of not working with Leone was… disappointing. He knew that someday it would be what had to happen, but he didn’t like to think about it. Despite this, a soft smile returned, “Yeah… You’re right, Leone. I need to grow on my own. Now, let’s start that over. I’ll talk slowly this time.”

“And preferably, in Japanese.”

And so he did. The story could have easily been told in five minutes, but it took closer to twenty-five with Yuuya relaying the events, waiting as Leone copied them down, and inevitably needing to correct him when he wrote certain parts incorrectly. By the end, Leone had only written about a half a page of notes, but he had gotten the jist of what had happened.

Leone looked carefully over what he’d written, grumbling quietly to himself. Tapping his pen on his chin, he addressed Yuuya, “So you’re sure this is everything? You didn’t miss a detail?”

“I assure you,” Yuuya said, “Every detail.” And he truly _had_ captured every detail he’d noticed about the doctor. His fluidity when opening the door. The strange tone in his voice and that unique look in his eyes. Well… now that Yuuya thought about it, there was one detail he hadn’t relayed.

_Until tomorrow… Mongrel._

It… didn’t seem worth mentioning. It was clearly no more than a subconscious, auditory hallucination. There was only one person who ever called him that… and he was thousands of miles away. He had just been thinking about him in that moment, he was sure. It wouldn’t be the first time his guilt had come to haunt him, after all. It was nothing. Perhaps he would write to him tonight…

“Alright…” Leone murmured, “Well, we’ve got a lot on our hands.”

“Really?” Yuuya asked, leaning over him curiously and looking over his notes, “You can tell that just from what I told you?”

“Of course. He’s definitely hiding something, and it’s especially concerning that he seems to know you, or at least recognize your name. Aren’t you even the least bit troubled by that?”

Yuuya waved it away dismissively and kicked his feet up on the coffee table, “No, no. Plenty of people know me, and nothing at all troubles me!”

“Sakazaki. You know I know you better than that. That happy-go-lucky attitude of yours is going to get you into trouble someday.”

“Aha…” Yuuya’s smile seemed less genuine now, “You may be right. But sir, there’s no other attitude for me. This is who I am.”

“...right. Well, be careful. I worry about you, you know.”

“I know.”

“Anything that goes on beyond those infirmary doors… I need to know about it, okay?”

“Of course.”

Leone mustered up a proud smile and put a large, rough hand on Yuuya’s shoulder, “You’re turning into a fine young agent, Sakazaki. I’m proud to have worked with you.”

“No, no!” Yuuya whined, frowning at his hollow-sounding words, “Do not speak like we have already parted! We still have plenty of time to spend as colleagues, and past that, as friends.”

Leone laughed, but his eyes were serious, “Well, you’ll have to stay alive to ensure that.”

“And I will!”

Leone held out an arm as though they were going to arm wrestle, “...you’d better promise me, kid.”

Yuuya smiled and clasped Leone’s hand in his, squeezing it hard, “I promise, sir. I promise.”


	4. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wish I could cross my arms and cross your mind  
> 'Cause I believe you'd unfold your paper heart and wear it on your sleeve  
> All my life I wish I broke mirrors instead of promises  
> ['Cause all I see is a shattered conscience staring right back at me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MWwKkWC6bFo)

That night, Yuuya sat in a cheap rolling chair in his small apartment, spinning idly back and forth and nibbling on the end of his pen. The paper on the desk in front of him was already covered in words, but he questioned, as usual, whether or not it was good enough. But what was the point? It would most likely never be read. He supposed he still wished that it would be, and he knew that despite its futility, he would certainly be sending it out in the mail the next day.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He didn’t care. It was important that he kept up contact with him. Someday, he would have to tell him everything, and Yuuya couldn’t lose touch. Even if he tried to block him out. Adjusting his glasses, fake as they were, he began to reread what he had penned.

> _Salut, Sakuya,_
> 
> _It’s been far too long since we’ve last spoken,_ non _? Ahaha, I suppose you wouldn’t think so. I have sent you letters since the moment I could write and you have never once responded. I don’t know why I bother anymore, frankly, because your disinterest in me is overwhelmingly clear. However, I am your brother… or, well, I know I am no brother to you, but you are mine. As such, I care about you. I simply wish to know you’re well._
> 
> _How is mother? ...Father, even? Any response will do. Even if you reply and remind me how little you value me, how much you despise me, it would mean something to me because I’d know you took the time to write it. Aha… I am quite pathetic, I suppose. You’re not completely off the mark when you tell me such._
> 
> _Anyway, I wrote to inform you that school is going well. It was my first day today, and I’ve already made quite a few friends. I don’t think you would like it here, though. These people are a little bit too low-class for your taste. Like me, haha! Mere mongrels… You were in my thoughts today, Sakuya. You always are. Please know that._
> 
> _I’m sure you tear up these letters as soon as you get them and don’t even bother to read them, but I suppose I’ll follow tradition and remind you as I always do: it would be very beneficial for me to have your phone number! Or even an email! Snail mail is hardly efficient in this modern world, you know! What if someday you move, and my letters fail to reach you? What if… you already have?_
> 
> _I am sorry, Sakuya. There’s a lot I haven’t told you. If I weren’t so certain you never even read these letters, I wouldn’t be saying it even now. On the off chance you did open this, it would only mean something was so terribly wrong that you would need to know the truth anyway. I suppose that makes us rather estranged, doesn’t it? Aha. I don’t much like it. I wish it didn’t have to be this way... But whatever is best for you, brother dear~!_
> 
> _I’ve enclosed my own phone number and email address as per usual, in case you need me. Remember, it’s never a bother. Quite the contrary, actually. I would be honored if you would contact me one day. Only if you find the time._
> 
> _I wish you the best, Sakuya._
> 
> _Sincerely,  
>  Sakazaki Yuuya_
> 
> _P.S. Tell mother I love her dearly and miss her every day._  
> 

He added that last part after he had finished reading, not so much as an afterthought but as a hopeless wish. In order for his message to be passed on, his letter would have to be read. The chances of that were so slim that Yuuya would be better off betting on the slowest horse. He adjusted a few of the strokes on his irrationally fancy cursive signature before blowing on the page to ensure that the ink would dry. He looked up and out the window beyond his desk, gazing upon the city traffic below. The city was an interesting place, and he found it quite suited him, but it was hard for him to consider it home. Living alone was a little upsetting for a boy as social as he was, and he missed his family dearly… both the one that had raised him, and the one with which he shared blood.

With a soft smile lighting up his melancholy face, he wondered if Sakuya would like it in the city. In Japan. Probably not… he did seem to be a little racist at times. More likely, he would consider it a nation of impure breed lowlifes. Perhaps the scenery would appeal to him, and if he bothered to look into it, the culture. You would think that being a quarter Japanese and having a Japanese name, he would take more interest in it. Alas, it seemed he much preferred denying that that part of his lineage even existed.

Shrugging, Yuuya put his thoughts to rest, folding his letter and sliding it into an envelope. He had already labeled the outside, so as soon as he licked it shut, it was ready to be sent. Despite knowing full well it would be cast out as soon as it was received, he kept a burning hope within him that perhaps, this time, it would be opened. Perhaps, this time, he would write back.

Aha. He truly was too much of an optimist. Maybe Leone was right.

Yuuya shook his head and turned off his desk lamp, rising from his chair and bounding over to his bed. He collapsed onto it with a giant sigh, staring at the blank white ceiling, illuminated by the dim lamp on his side table. This apartment was so empty. So lonely. So far away from everyone he loved. At least he had Leone, but even so, it felt as though he was in his own universe. His fate was destined to be separate from those he loved, and he would just have to accept that. Such was the way of a Sexy and Suave spy.

At the very least, he was making friends at school. Tatsuya and Kamiya seemed like very nice guys, as average as they were, and most of the other characters he’d met were fine as well. Whereas he may feel lonely, he was certainly not alone. Closing his eyes, he smiled again. He just needed to remember that. A yawn escaped him and he realized it wasn’t the first time. Perhaps it was as good as time as any to get some sleep. He glanced at the clock. 11 PM. Early for him, but it would do.

Not elegantly in the slightest, Yuuya undressed, tossing his clothes on the ground and lying down against his pillow. He picked up his cell phone, charging on his table, as he turned off the light. One new message.

> **Leone J.B - 85.04.02 | 22:56**  
>  Stay Bright. Stay Massive. Don’t forget what we came here to do.  
> 

Yuuya grinned and typed back a quick reply before setting his phone down and attempting to sleep.

> **Sakazaki Yuuya - 85.04.02 | 23:05**  
>  I won’t, sir. Good night. Sexy and suave, roll out~! ☆  
> 


	5. Arrangement

Another day, another successful endeavor in the life of Super Student Sakazaki. His teachers seemed to like him, and his peers as well. He got along swimmingly with everyone, even a good chunk of upperclassmen. His pseudo-mother had always told him he was charismatic enough to be a politician. She wasn’t wrong, but he’d opted to take the shadier route in terms of politics. A hero from the shadows, rather than the spotlight. Besides… were politicians really heroes? Clearly a large number of them were not.

Kamiya and Tatsuya seemed to want to hang out again after school, this time to study in the library, but Yuuya had to decline once again. However, he assured them that tomorrow he would make time, no matter the cost. They seemed pleased. They were in homeroom and two of his classes with him, so he figured they’d have plenty of time to become closer friends. A few missed meetings would be fine. After all, his infirmary job was the highest priority as of now.

He was somewhat nervous to meet with the doctor again, especially after having experienced his strangeness firsthand, but as a Sexy and Suave agent, his anxiety was not going to deter him from the task at hand. With shoulders back and head held high, Yuuya strode upstairs to the infirmary, even greeting a few second-years that he’d met during break as they passed him to head home. As calmly as he’d been the day before, Yuuya knocked softly on the door, putting on that charming grin of his. Unlike the day before, a voice from within bade him to enter.

“Mm. Do come in.”

The doctor’s voice had a sickeningly sweet tone to it, but Yuuya did such, opening the door and striding through with a confident air. He shut the door behind him and bowed, “Good afternoon, Doctor Iwamine. I’m here to discuss my apprenticeship!”

Again, it seemed Iwamine was far too focused on examining him. Maybe that was just the way of a doctor, but Yuuya sensed that something was off about the way he stared. After a few silent moments, Iwamine nodded and a slight smirk seemed to flicker across his face and disappear, “Sakazaki Yuuya. Please, have a seat.”

Yuuya hesitated. Why did he sound so smug? Furrowing his brow slightly and remaining alert, Yuuya sat down in an uncomfortable wooden chair across the desk from Iwamine, who steepled his hands and continued staring intently. In an attempt to break the tension, Yuuya laughed, “Sir? I understand that I am a dashing specimen, but might I ask why you’re staring?”

Iwamine’s smirk returned, but this time stayed, “Ohoho… Well, it’s just… You look just like him, Sakazaki-kun.”

Only becoming more confused, Yuuya tilted his head, “Like who, may I ask? A famous actor, perhaps? I know I do have those movie-star good looks, eh?”

“Oh no, of course not,” Iwamine denied, shaking his head. Yuuya noticed that there was an oddly refined elegance to the way his tied-back hair bounced as he did so. Did he wear it like that on purpose? The hair itself was rather stringy, as though it were washed once a week at the most frequent. Clearly, he poured himself into his work, but the thought he seemed to put into his appearance even so must have had some purpose. Was it to make it hard to believe the strange and suspicious words he spoke were actually coming out of his mouth? Fiddling with his hands, Iwamine offered an evil smile and looked Yuuya coldly in the eyes, “Perhaps it's your bone structure, or your skin tone... but you look amazingly similar to... Shirogane Le Bel Sakuya.”

At that name, Yuuya froze, finding even his well-trained composure beginning to slip. How… did he know his name? Were they connected in some way? Had they ever met?

“Ahaha, who?” Yuuya chuckled, “Sounds like the name of a king, perhaps! Or a-”

“Do not play dumb with me Sakazaki," Iwamine hissed, leaning closer towards him, "I know _exactly_ who he is to you.”

Yuuya’s words trailed off and he forgot how to breathe. He knew? How _much_ did he know? Until he was certain that Iwamine was not simply bluffing, Yuuya would remain as though he were ignorant, “Eh? You’ve lost me, doctor.”

“I see,” Iwamine murmured, almost seeming amused by the direction the conversation was going in. Cooly, he pulled out a file of documents from his desk drawer, flipping through it casually, “Well, let me clarify. Shirogane Le Bel Sakuya. Age fourteen. Fifteen in June. Heir to the legacy of the Le Bels, a noble lineage in France. His father, François Le Bel, and his mother… Annette Le Bel… or should I say, Sakazaki. That was, after all, the name she’d been known by before. When she married your father.”

Yuuya's head felt foggy. This couldn't be real.

“How…” Yuuya breathed, eyes growing wide. This… he could never have planned for this. There was no protocol for him to follow in this situation, “...did you know that?”

“I have my ways,” Iwamine stated simply, shutting the file with a satisfying clap, “But that is not the most interesting information I managed to dig up on you… oh no. Ohohoho...”

Suddenly, his voice took on a dark, malicious hush as he laughed, almost tauntingly, as though laughing at Yuuya’s discomfort. Yuuya froze, but shook his head to snap out of his stupor, blinking a few times and attempting to remain calm. He was shocked and somewhat alarmed by this turn of events, but there was nothing on the table yet that could truly endanger his mission. His personal issues could not stand in the way of that.

“Aha, that’s almost intimidating,” Yuuya mused, shuffling somewhat nervously, “Did you find out my height and weight before the physical examinations have even begun?”

Iwamine chuckled, “Oh no, Sakazaki-kun. I know that Shirogane Sakuya is your brother…”

“Why, of course! We share a mother, after a-”

“Your _full_ brother.”

Yuuya’s heart dropped. This was… impossible. Nobody was supposed to know that. Nobody was supposed to know that the child his mother had carried back then had been his father’s, not Monsieur Le Bel’s. No one except for mother and him. It was their secret. Theirs alone.

“I don’t know what makes you say that,” Yuuya said softly, still sounding mostly collected despite his fear, “You’re spouting nonsense, doctor. That’s not like you.”

“Ah, is it not?” Iwamine purred, mockingly acting as though he were genuinely being subverted, “You may be right. I suppose I’ll have to send the evidence to the Le Bel family rather than simply a letter…”

“Evidence?” Yuuya’s hope that he could get out of this was quickly dropping, and he found himself shaking a little. Leone would be disappointed in how quickly he was cracking, but he hadn’t expected this. He couldn’t have expected this, “Wh- What do you mean?”

He silently cursed himself. And now he was stuttering? This wasn’t very attractive at all. Or so he thought. Iwamine seemed to have other opinions, raising his eyebrows slightly and watching in amusement at his struggle.

“Oh, I simply mean the DNA tests I ran on him when he was a mere child. I did meet him once. He was nothing of consequence, it was a simple checkup arranged privately by Mister Le Bel himself. I did a little more than check up, taking a few swabs of his blood back to the lab. Just in case. I noticed then that he shared none of Mister Le Bel’s DNA, which had been in our records due to his prior illness--that I had no association with, fortunately. He truly is a dull character. Sakuya is as well.” Iwamine’s smug smirk seemed to soften, or was he imagining it? If anything, it was simply a patronizing fondness, “You are different, though… and I assure you, blood is not the culprit.”

Yuuya felt absolutely numb. How? How could this be happening to him? He couldn’t tell Leone this. He couldn’t tell anyone, but Iwamine knew. And he was going to tell Sakuya’s father. If he found out that Sakuya was not his real son, not only would he be cast out without a second thought, but his dearest mother would also face consequences. Yuuya knew all too well what those consequences would be.

“D- Doctor Iwamine…” Yuuya mumbled, staring at his face, but blankly, “You can’t be serious..?”

“Oh, but I am,” Iwamine said, “I must say, that look on your face is rather amusing… Oh, how I’d love to dissect those facial muscles.”

What the _hell_ was he saying!? This was like the rumors. How he always said terrifying things, and some students who visited him simply disappeared. For a moment, Yuuya wondered if he would be next. No. He wouldn’t die. He had promised. But how could he subvert his own murder?

“Okay…” Yuuya whispered, offering a dull smile, “I see we are at a crossroads I had never expected to reach, ahaha… You know. I cannot deny that any longer, but I must ask… what do you want? Money? I have none of that. Information? Over my dead body, so if you plan on killing me, please do so quickly. Torture won't help you.”

Iwamine chuckled in that ominous way of his, leaning forward in his chair and reaching across his desk towards Yuuya’s face. Reflexively as though he were being attacked, Yuuya’s hand shot up and grasped his wrist, pushing it away. Iwamine laughed harder and rolled his eyes.

“Oh? Are you afraid I may hurt you?” Iwamine asked, “Well I suppose you’re not far off the mark. But the more you fight, the more irritated I will become, and the more inclined I am to send a nice letter to one Monsieur Le Bel…”

“No!” The word was out of Yuuya’s mouth before he could stop it, fingers clenched around the armrests of his chair, “I- I mean, you… you won’t need to do that… Go on with… whatever, you were doing.”

“I see. So you’re beginning to realize the arrangement. Smart boy. It will be a shame when the time comes to dispose of you.”

Shivers went down his spine at that. Dispose? He couldn’t mean… Yuuya clenched his teeth. It was clear now that the rumors said about Iwamine were true, at least the ones about his dealings with the students. However, Yuuya lacked evidence, and still needed to figure out _why_ he did what he did. He gulped, “Haha, you really don’t hide your intentions, do you, doctor?”

“Why put in the extra effort? I certainly have enough to be doing… but you will help with that, no?”

“Uh..?” Yuuya stammered, “Elaborate, please.”

“If you don’t want me to tell people Sakuya’s true lineage, simply do as I say. That is all… You will be my... aide. Is that not what you wanted? I believe our arrangement will be mutually beneficial.”

Yuuya pressed his lips together and inhaled sharply through his nose. There was no way he could negotiate his way out of this one. Currently, he was unarmed, and until he was, he didn’t want to take any risks that could leave him mortally vulnerable. Killing Iwamine was not part of his mission... but for Sakuya, he would. But only if he must. As it was, it seemed he had no choice but to bend to the doctor’s will… His heart ached and his pride took a fall off a cliff. This was fine, though. He could work around it. Surely he could do what was expected of him and keep his secret as well as continuing with the mission.

“Okay,” he said quietly, “I’ll do whatever you ask of me…”

“That’s a good boy,” Iwamine murmured, and Yuuya felt as though he were going to vomit. This time, when he reached out to touch his face, Yuuya reluctantly let it happen. His fingers were cold and bony, but soft like the hands of a child. Clearly he wasn’t much one for physical activity, or he’d have more calluses. Medicine was a more delicate work… less rough on his tender, tender skin, “You’ll make a fine specimen when the time comes… but for now, I think I’ll simply make use of you. You were kind in asking to assist me…” His hand moved from his face to over his lips and he placed one finger over them, smiling mockingly, “I don’t think you’ll have a problem keeping this between us, right? To everyone else, you’re simply an infirmary aid…”

Yuuya didn’t understand. What _was_ it that he wanted from him? Surely, he wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of bringing up such a valuable secret if he had only wanted an aide… after all, Yuuya would have done that without any coercion. No. This was certainly more. There was something Iwamine wanted with him.

“Might I ask what exactly you want me to be doing?” Yuuya muttered gruffly around Iwamine’s finger, but not daring to move it away. He had managed to compose himself after the initial shock had worn off. This sort of patronizing embarrassment was something he was trained to handle with ease in the case of a hostage situation. It was not a problem, simply a discomfort, “I’d like to know the reason I’m being blackmailed, you know? Common courtesy, I think.”

“Oh, of course… On Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays after school, you shall report here and help me clean the infirmary, as well as your assigned aide periods,” Iwamine told him flatly, removing his finger and instead clasping his hands together, “On Sunday-”

“Uh, Sunday?” Yuuya interjected, but Iwamine shot him a terrifying glare.

“Did I give you permission to speak?”

Yuuya almost responded with a ‘no’, but figured that wasn’t exactly the best thing to do in the situation. Instead, he shook his head, deciding to play the obedience card rather than attempt to be a rebel. As much as it didn’t suit him, he knew he couldn’t always get what he wanted while he was working, and despite the personal twist that had been thrown at him, this was still a mission, still his job. He couldn’t just whine like a child. He had to do what was best for his wellbeing and the goal of his mission, which in this case, was playing along.

But maybe he was just thinking all of that to reassure himself that he wasn’t just being manipulated. That he hadn’t been turned from a knight to a pawn within an instant.

“Good. You clearly know how to follow orders...” Iwamine said, trailing off as though he knew something more and did not feel the desire to say it, “But yes. Sunday. Worry not, Sakazaki-kun. I won’t be taking your whole day. Use it wisely, to study. Or to mingle with your obnoxious friends. But at seven P.M., you will meet me here-- in the infirmary.”

“I- Is the school even open that late? And on a Sunday?”

“It will be when you arrive.”

Something about how he said that gave Yuuya a terrible vibe, but he nodded nonetheless. Compliance was key, here, but it still left an awful taste in his mouth. Bitterly, he muttered, “Okay. I’ll do it. Are you satisfied?”

Iwamine did not dignify him with a response or even a nod, simply pushing his chair back and rising to a standing position, “For the rest of today, clean the infirmary… but whatever you do, Sakazaki… do not touch my desk.”

“Understood, sir…”

“Hohoho... I feel you have the potential to be my most competent aide yet.”

Somehow, that didn’t feel like a compliment. Iwamine picked up a rag and a bottle of disinfectant, shoving it harshly into Yuuya's arms and nearly knocking him over with the force.

"Now get to work. I want this place to be spotless. Any mistakes are on your back. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir."

Yuuya smiled numbly. Absolutely crystal.


	6. Rumors

“Sakazaki, dude, are you gonna finish that?”

It was now Wednesday after school and Yuuya had not gone back on his word to hang with Tatsuya and Kamiya. For the past half an hour, Yuuya had been absentmindedly stirring his beef bowl, barely taking more than a few bites. At Tatsuya’s words, Yuuya blinked and looked up, smiling and shaking his head.

“Ahaha, no! I must keep my dashing figure, you know? I have yet to hit the gym this week,” he told them, patting his belly and winking, “Feel free to finish it, Tatsuya. You’re a growing boy.”

Tatsuya snorted and rolled his eyes, grabbing Yuuya’s bowl and scarfing it down, his own having been drained already, “You are too. Don’t treat me like I’m younger than you. We’re in the same grade, you know.”

“Perhaps, but I _am_ older than you!”

“By like, eight months,” Kamiya piped up, laughing quietly. Unlike Yuuya and Tatsuya, Kamiya was very shy and reserved. It seemed that the two boys had been friends throughout middle school. Yuuya thought they were a good balance for each other. Tatsuya’s outgoing nature and Kamiya’s passive introversion made for a nice dynamic duo, “You can’t hold that over his head.”

“Hm,” Yuuya pondered, “I suppose you’re right.”

“Well, I mean,” Tatsuya spoke up, mouth still stuffed with beef, “Eight months is about, like, four percent of my entire life. That might not seem like a lot, but when you’re this young it all adds up, right?”

Yuuya laughed, “See, Kamiya-kun? Even Tatsuya understands that I’m his senpai.”

“Hey, I said no such thing!” Tatsuya grumbled indignantly, munching on some rice. Kamiya snickered and Tatsuya shot him a glare, “What are you laughing at?! Weren’t you on my side five seconds ago?”

“I… I’m on no one’s side,” Kamiya said, pouting.

Tatsuya rolled his eyes and pulled Kamiya into a headlock, smirking playfully, “You wishy-washy fuck…” Kamiya laughed while trying to free himself from the grip and Yuuya watched on, eyebrows raised. Their friendly jests reminded him of when he was younger and had more time to spend on himself rather than his job. It made him happy… happy enough.

Finally, Kamiya seemed to have enough, groaning loudly. Tatsuya let go of the frankly pitiful boy, laughing a little as he attempted to adjust his fancy-looking ascot. Now that he thought of it, it seemed like something Sakuya might wear. He shrugged. Rich people. Kamiya rolled his eyes and stared at his food, “Gosh, guys. I just want to finish my beef bowl in peace.”

“Hey, don’t let us stop you,” Yuuya told him, side-eyeing Tatsuya with a grin, “I’ll tame the beast so you can finish without disruption.”

It was good for Yuuya to try and get his mind off of yesterday, but try as he might, he couldn’t escape his sense of dread. Spending casual downtime with his friends was nice, but it didn’t feel as nice as it could with the sneaking feeling that he could potentially end up dead that Sunday night. He should have reported to One the evening before, but he hadn’t felt up to it. Certainly, he was wondering how his first meeting has went. What would he say? He would definitely report to him tomorrow after he cleaned the infirmary… provided that was all he would be doing.

He found himself sighing absently before he could stop himself. Tatsuya was too busy devouring beef to notice, but Kamiya looked in his direction, “Are you alright Sakazaki? You’ve seemed a bit out of it.”

“Me? _Au contraire!_ ” He chuckled, waving the comment away, “I was up late studying last night, is all. Didn’t get enough sleep.”

“Heh, I understand,” Kamiya said, seeming to buy his excuse without any doubts, “I was up pretty late too, but I napped during math.”

“Aha, yeah, don’t you have the math teacher who always falls asleep?”

“Yup! Mister Nanaki. He’s a good teacher, when he’s awake.”

“Hey Sakazaki,” Tatsuya suddenly spoke up, mouth still full as he spoke, “I just remembered. Didn’t you say you were applying to be infirmary aide? How’d that go?”

“Oh yeah,” Kamiya said, eyes widening, “I’ve, uh, heard some scary things about him. Have you heard the rumors?”

Although their words prodded at his already aching heart, Yuuya smiled deviously, raising his eyebrows, “Oh, have I… In fact, I think plenty of them are true…”

“Hah, seriously? Ooooh, sooo scary!” Tatsuya snickered, finally finishing his bowl and plopping it down unceremoniously, “Don’t tell me… you’re going to work for him as an evil, loyal underling…?”

Normally, Yuuya would have smirked, laughed, and jokingly agreed, but he found himself going silent. Given yesterday’s events and the looming threat held over him, Tatsuya’s joke had hit a little too close to home for comfort. His expression grew solemn and he exhaled softly. There was no need to hide his wariness now. After all, with a doctor so outwardly suspicious, it wouldn’t be any sort of surprise for Yuuya to have seen some strange things.

“Sakazaki… are you okay?” Kamiya asked quietly.

Even Tatsuya seemed to know it wasn’t time to joke anymore, “Is he really that creepy?”

“Ahaha, well,” Yuuya started, forcing himself to smile as he so often did, “I can’t say for sure, having only known the man for two days, but I must say… simply being around him is reminiscent of attending a funeral.”

“Yikes…” Kamiya mumbled, shuddering, shaking his head, and wrapping his arms around himself, “I hope I don’t have to ever meet him.”

“Frankly, _mon amie_ , I hope so too. I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone.”

Tatsuya, meanwhile, was twirling his chopsticks, accidentally flicking one across the table and making an embarrassed face. Clearly, he didn’t seem to be as concerned as Kamiya. Kamiya sighed and shook his head.

“Whoops,” Tatsuya muttered, smiling sheepishly and shrugging, “Anyway! If he really is that bad--which I still kind of doubt--why aide for him? Join kendo instead… we’re, uh… Well, we’ve got a vacancy.”

“I assure you, I’m not the athletic type,” Yuuya lied, “And besides… I promised my family I would study to be a doctor. Aiding under someone as prestigious as Doctor Iwamine is an opportunity I simply cannot throw away… do you understand?”

Tatsuya furrowed his brow, seeming surprisingly serious, “Yeah, actually. I really understand. I think Doctor Iwamine is really good at what he does.”

“Is that why you’re so hesitant to suspect him?” Kamiya asked.

Shrugging, Tatsuya stared at some far-off spot on the wall, “Maybe. I just think it’s a load of bullshit, is all.”

“Fair enough,” Yuuya laughed, “But if you ever do go in to visit him, do be careful. I wouldn’t want to lose my two favorite friends within the first week, you hear?”

“Aww, we’re his favorites! You hear that Tatsu?” Kamiya teased Yuuya, elbowing Tatsuya in the ribs. Tatsuya jolted as though he’d been tazed and jabbed Kamiya back, both of them starting to laugh, “Isn’t that cute?”

Snickering, Tatsuya rolled his eyes, “I’m not calling a guy cute. Especially not an ugly fuck like him!”

“Wow, rude!” Yuuya gasped, holding a hand to his chest and gasping in mock distress, “I’ll have you know I am both Sexy _and_ Suave. I can prove it to you later, if you desire...” He winked. Tatsuya inhaled through his teeth, shaking his head.

“That’s gay, dude,” Tatsuya informed him, “Do you flirt with everyone you meet?”

“Oh, _non, mon amie_! Only the cream of the crop!”

“Stop it, Sakazaki,” Kamiya mumbled, smiling weakly and kicking his foot, “I don’t think Tatsu’s quite used to your... _charm._ ” Although it was played off as a joke, was that a hint of genuine jealousy that Yuuya spotted in his demeanor? His voice did sound a touch hostile. Perhaps, perhaps not. Yuuya couldn’t say it was at the top of his priority list as of late.

“Shit, is it really that late?” Tatsuya suddenly mumbled, getting up from the table and slinging his bag over his shoulder, “I forgot I had to babysit my sister tonight. I gotta go guys. See you tomorrow.”

“Later, Tatsu!” Kamiya said, beginning to rise himself, “I think I should get going too… Good luck with the aide thing, Sakazaki!”

“ _Adieu, mes amis!_ ” Yuuya said as he joined them on his feet, blowing a kiss and winking at them both before they left the store, “And _merci_ , Kamiya-kun. I assure you, I’ll do my best!”


	7. Report

The next day, aiding during his fourth period and cleaning the infirmary went smoother than expected. He had concealed a small gun in a holster beneath his school blazer--not out of the ordinary for him--in case of an emergency, but he didn’t seem to have any reason to use it. The doctor was distant, but observant of Yuuya, simply tending to any patients that needed assistance, but not showing any warmth. In fact, he told at least three of the students that had come in that he would like a leg or an arm as payment for his services. They all played it off as a joke, laughing nervously before fleeing the premises. Nobody felt safe in Iwamine’s infirmary.

Yuuya least of all.

“Sakazaki, can you remind me when you aide?” Tatsuya had asked him casually that morning, as they were in the same homeroom.

“Hm? Why?”

“Just curious, ya know?”

His curiosity seemed more than just simply that, but Yuuya felt no need to pry any further, telling his friend his schedule without hesitation. Tatsuya had nodded and thanked him, immediately continuing into a diatribe about the game he had been playing the night before. What a strange boy.

At around four PM, Yuuya was finished with his after-school incident and had somehow escaped unscathed. Well, physically, at least. The doctor’s highly conspicuous evil intentions still baffled and unnerved Yuuya, making for a very unpleasant work environment. It was somewhat difficult to organize medicines while the boy behind the curtain was calmly refusing the doctor’s kind offer to trade one hand for a dose of aspirin.

“Alright, Doctor, I’ll be going now,” Yuuya told him, smiling casually as though they weren’t men at odds, “I already feel like I’ve learned a lot, and it’s my first day on the job!”

Iwamine looked up stoically from the papers he’d been examining, “That’s wonderful.”

The way he said it, it sure didn’t seem he truly believed it.

“See you tomorrow, doctor.”

“Indeed. Farewell.”

Yuuya shuddered as soon as he closed the door behind him, glad to be free of that stiflingly eerie room. Just like Iwamine had said, he had simply been a normal infirmary aide. However, it was Thursday, and that only brought him closer and closer to Sunday. Although as an agent it wasn’t his job to show fear, he most certainly felt it. He’d bring his gun again, of course. If there were any time he would need it, it would be then… Despite having it, he still felt absolutely unarmed. What could a gun do against the information being held against him? He was ordered not to kill… not until he had to, that is. Shooting the doctor non-lethally would only lead to his secret being released and the downfall of those he loved. Yuuya sighed. Perhaps it wasn’t worth it.

Anyway, it was time for him to report to One.

He made his way to the maintenance office and knocked on the door, within a minute, it was open and Leone loomed above him, glowering in disapproval. Yuuya smiled nervously.

“Haha, _salut_ Leone!”

Leone sighed, leaning on the doorframe and crossing his arms, “Why didn’t you report to me yesterday?”

_Right to the punch, I see._

“Ah, well, you see,” Yuuya started, slipping past him and making his way into the room while scratching his neck, “I had a lot of homework to do and I figured that I should get it out of the way. And after all, it’s more efficient for me to come to you after my first full day on duty rather than just the day I showed up, _non_?”

Leone sighed and shook his head, shutting the door behind him, “Don’t let it happen again, Sakazaki. You’re better than this.”

“I know, sir,” Yuuya said, “I know.

“Well, you know the drill. Report.”

And so he did. He neglected one major detail, however, that being the secret Iwamine held over him like a marionette's strings. But what was he to do… he was sworn to secrecy, and not just to Iwamine. His knowing was a fluke. No one else ever will.

No matter what Yuuya had to do.

After Yuuya had relayed his information, sipping a mug of black coffee on the couch, Leone scratched his stubbly chin and nodded slowly, “I see… strange indeed. He really is as suspicious as they say.”

“And he doesn’t even try to hide it,” Yuuya repeated in confirmation, “Anyway, I aide for one period twice a week, and I clean after school on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. Simple enough, _non_?”

“Mm… too simple. I’d see if you could get in there at other times, if I were you.”

Yuuya nodded, “I agree, sir. I’ll make sure to take a few super clandestine trips on days I’m not scheduled to work, and snoop around.”

“Be careful. With the way this man is, it could cost you your life.”

“I know, sir. I know. I’ll be careful.”

Leone leaned back against the couch cushion and studied Yuuya, who averted his eyes awkwardly. He had never been one to stare… what was he looking at?

“C- Can I help you, sir?”

“Mm…” Leone muttered, scratching his arm and shaking his head, “No. You just seem a little out of it today.”

Yuuya chuckled, “Me? Out of it? You _must_ be joking.”

“I’m not,” Leone said simply, sipping his own coffee, cream and sugar, “Your mannerisms are a little off, and I think you’re trying harder than usual to remain casual. I notice these things, Sakazaki.”

“Aha,” Yuuya laughed, “Well… I suppose you’re not completely wrong. Iwamine really is a strange man. It’s off-putting, even to someone as sexy and luxurious as me.”

Leone still seemed to doubt him, but he shrugged, “Okay. But tell me if anything goes wrong. Remember that, Sakazaki. Don’t start getting proud now- we can’t fail this mission.”

“I know, sir,” Yuuya assured him, solemnly now, clasping his hands together and crossing his legs, “I know.”

Seemingly eager to change the topic, Leone coughed, “How’s school been going?”

“Not too badly. I think I’m passing all of my classes. So far.”

“Keep it up. You may need to go to class less as you get busier, so learn as much as you can.”

“Haha, yes sir. I do love a good excuse to ditch, I must say.”

Leone sighed, but he smiled as he did so, “You’re such a child.”

“ _Moi?_ I am offended by the statement! I may be young, but I am mature and gentlemanly!”

“Sure. Keep telling yourself that, kid.”

“Ahaha…. I will, sir.”

“You should get going… You have to keep your health up.”

“Of course, sir.”

“And remember… don’t do anything without consulting me.”

“Of course, sir... I promise.”


	8. Pleasure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is. the Porn Chapter. more where this came from.

Sunday hit Yuuya like a train on a track. It seemed like no time at all had passed since the day they’d agreed to meet… The day everything had fallen straight from under him. Frankly, he’d been trying (and mostly succeeding) to pretend that this strange evening meeting was not actually happening. He spent time with friends when he could, and cleaned the infirmary when he had to. Iwamine had acted no stranger than usual, and had not even mentioned their conversation and consequent… agreement. It wasn’t surprising to Yuuya, but he detested how it hung in the air over his head like an invisible storm cloud.

Like he owned him, and they both knew it. It didn’t even need to be said.

At around noon on that fateful Sunday, after having slept in until eleven and not gotten out of bed since, Yuuya received a message.

> **Tatsuya Yasuke - 85.04.07 | 12:13**  
>  do u wanna blaze 2nite? say around 7? my place, w kamiya  
> 

Yuuya sighed. As much as he enjoyed the… calming effects of marijuana, and most certainly did want to “blaze 2nite”, he simply… couldn’t.

> **Sakazaki Yuuya - 85.04.07 | 12:16**  
>  Sorry, mon amie-- can’t! Homework. (･_･;)  
> 

The dawning reality of the situation after having suppressed it for days made him feel absolutely terrible. He slumped down under his covers and pulled them over his head, then pressing his hand to his forehead. It was a little warm, but certainly not a fever. Besides, would he truly be able to claim sickness to get out of a meeting with… the doctor? It really wasn’t logical. But he supposed he just wanted an excuse. Any excuse.

His phone dinged softly and he hesitated before reaching lazily out from under the covers and feeling around his side table for his phone. He finally grabbed it, but not before nearly knocking it to the floor. Pulling it into his cocoon of denial, he looked at the text he’d gotten.

> **Tatsuya Yasuke - 85.04.07 | 12:18**  
>  bummer, dude. c u around  
> 

Briefly, he considered ignoring it all together. It wasn’t unheard of, after all, to simply stop responding after denying an offer. But that wasn’t Yuuya’s style, and he was not going to let even the smallest hint that he may be feeling less than _spectacular_ slip past his barrier.

> **Sakazaki Yuuya - 85.04.07 | 12:21**  
>  Have fun~ Try not to miss me! ;) Adieu!  
> 

>   
>  **Tatsuya Yasuke - 85.04.07 | 12:22**  
>  lmao ok bye  
> 

Despite his ill mood, Yuuya laughed weakly. Tatsuya really wasn’t one for much conversation. He certainly hoped that wouldn’t be the last thing Tatsuya would ever say to him.

While he was good at acting, Yuuya really wasn’t good at thinking on the bright side. And without One’s support, it was even harder. He was all alone in this mission. And it was personal.

The rest of the day passed by without event. Yuuya was too nervous to even leave his house, which thankfully, wouldn’t strike anyone as odd because of his supposed loads of homework. All he did was alternate between lying in bed, occasionally browsing social media, and pacing back and forth across what little space he had.

Far too quickly, evening came. Yuuya closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Just think of it as a job. _Pretend_ it isn’t personal. But he was only good at lying to the world… to himself, he wasn’t always convincing.

He made it to the school at exactly seven, which wasn’t like him in the slightest. After all, he made sure to always show up half an hour early for meetings. Being on time was only another indicator of the blatantly obvious… he did not want to be here. Standing at the entrance, he glanced around warily. What if someone saw him coming in here? It would certainly look suspicious… But he reminded himself he was playing this off as just another mission. If he was noticed, he would fabricate a story.

The door, as Shuu had so eerily assured him, was open. However, the hallways were dark. All that illuminated them were the glowing exit signs and dim floodlights. Although Yuuya had stood in many a dark corridor, often surrounded by far more than one hostile foe, he found himself more nervous now than he ever had been. His face remained stoic nonetheless, and he stuck his hands in the pockets of his coat and pressed on.

A short walk and a set of stairs later, Yuuya arrived in front of the infirmary. A terrible wrenching in his gut caused him to hesitate, but he knew he had no choice but to enter. As steadily and confidently as he could muster, he knocked on the door.

“Ah. You came,” said a voice from within, “Somehow I’m not surprised. Come in. It’s unlocked.”

So it was. And he did.

The bright overhead lights that usually lit up the room were off, and instead only a desk lamp illuminated the doctor’s face. Unsurprisingly, as it was Sunday, Iwamine was wearing something less business-like than usual. However, it was still unusually formal. He wore a well-fitted mauve cashmere sweater—Er, not that Yuuya noticed that it was cashmere, or anything—that seemed rather expensive and a pair of long khaki trousers. In the end, it truly wasn’t that unlike what he wore to work. If anything, it was merely more comfortable.

“Hello, doctor Iwamine,” Yuuya said, not bothering to feign a smile. There was no use in wearing his façade tonight. Everything was out on the table. All he could do now was wait to find out why he’d been summoned here. After a brief pause, he sighed, “I’m sure you know better than I do what will occur here tonight.”

Iwamine chuckled, an evil grin flickering across his lips. It was odd how he allowed it to stay instead of mysteriously replacing it quickly with his normal stoic expression. In fact, it was unnerving. It only made Yuuya even more certain that something was utterly, terribly wrong.

“Mm. You would be correct. Truly, your intellect is overwhelmingly vast.” His words were spoken flatly, but somehow still felt patronizing and sarcastic. Iwamine had a sickening way of making one feel terrible with every word. It was a pressing vibe of discomfort unique to him, and even the strongest of people seemed to waver under its influence.

Although he was somewhat bothered, Yuuya’s expression remained solemn. He maintained a calm, yet defensive stance, with his hands still in his casually in his pockets but muscles tensed to react in an instant if attacked… That was more instinct than anything. Fighting Iwamine would do him no good. If he were to die, he would do so. He almost laughed at how pathetic that sounded. He truly was a puppet in the doctor's hands.

“Please, doctor. I’ve no time for games. May we cut to the chase?”

Iwamine clicked his tongue in disappointment, shaking his head, “I wouldn’t be so demanding, were I you… Have you forgotten what’s on the table, or shall I remind you of the stakes?”

“Haha,” Yuuya laughed emotionlessly, “That will not be necessary.”

“I see…” Iwamine murmured, leaning his elbow on his desk and his head on his hand. With a shrug, he continued, “...I think I will anyway. Your brother, Shirogane Sakuya, is not in fact a member of the Le Bel family. He is, in his pathetic entirety, your blood brother.”

Yuuya smiled sarcastically, “Why thank you, doctor! That had completely slipped my mind.”

Iwamine’s eyes darkened suddenly and he pushed his chair away from his desk as though he were about to stand. Yuuya’s heart seemed to skip a beat.

“You are not to speak to me that way ever again. Never. Again.” Iwamine’s words were a harsh whisper, and his piercing eyes were trained directly on Yuuya, “This, Sakazaki, is the only warning you will receive.”

As much as Yuuya wanted to protest… it had been made clear that he could do no such thing. Gritting his teeth, he nodded, “Of course, doctor… I understand.”

“Hmph. Good. I had _thought_ I’d made myself clear last time. Clearly I overestimated your capacity for understanding.”

With no room to defend himself, Yuuya only remained silent, staring into the doctor’s menacing eyes. Neither of them broke eye contact until Yuuya grew impatient.

“Iwamine… Just tell me what you want from me. Please.”

“Hm? Say that again.”

“Tell me what you want from me.”

“Ha. Funny. You know what I mean. Do not tempt me.” He gestured towards his desk phone and Yuuya gulped, then sighed.

“Please, Iwamine.”

“For someone who claims to be a gentleman, you are rather lacking in basic manners,” Iwamine muttered, rising from his chair and turning to face Yuuya, “It would do you good to brush up.”

“Aha… Yes, sir.”

“I must say, it is amusing how reluctant you are to be here,” Iwamine began walking towards Yuuya, “It certainly makes for a good show.”

“Ha, well, I aim to please.”

“Tch.” Iwamine paused, disapproving of his sarcasm once again, “You really don’t know when to stop, do you? Fine. Have it your way. I _apologize_ for having brought you here and wasting your time. I’ll just phone Monsieur-”

“Fuck…” Yuuya exhaled, “No. I’m sorry. I just. I’m still… baffled. How did you know? Why are you doing this? What are you here to gain?”

“Because I do. Because I want to. And my gain…? Pleasure.”

_Pleasure?_

As fake as that excuse felt, it was then that Yuuya knew all too well where this was going. He could feel himself shrink back into his coat as Iwamine approached him.

“Now you are lucky I’m _fond_ of you,” Iwamine whispered wryly, “I will give you one last chance. Let the record show that I do not _need_ your cooperation. Consider this all… an experiment.”

Yuuya had a thousand questions, but at this point, he knew better than to speak. He knew better than to question anything. Instead, he stayed silent, and tensed as Iwamine stepped right into his personal space, grabbing Yuuya by the back of the neck and tilting his head up towards his own.

“You are to obey my every command. If you do not, the consequences have been made quite clear.” His breath was warm on Yuuya’s face and smelled vaguely of cinnamon. Yuuya inhaled shakily. He found that it was growing harder for him to remain calm. In fact, it was growing steadily harder to breathe. He had been held captive before, and even tortured to an extent, but never had the potential consequences been this grave. At least… not in his mind. Iwamine placed a bony hand on Yuuya’s waist. Yuuya froze and held his breath. 

Sometimes, he hated when he was right.

He knew the doctor’s intentions at this point. He was certain. But it went against everything he had learned about him so far… He was ruthless. A cold-blooded killer. Why would he instead go for sexual assault if he didn’t have a reason? At this point, he was relatively sure Iwamine did not want him dead. If he were simply going to kill Yuuya, he would not have needed to blackmail him to do so. This was something else, but something better or something worse?

But these questions were for another time, because Iwamine was pressing him down by the neck. Yuuya wavered and mumbled an “Eh..?”

“Get on your knees.”

“...”

“I know you are not _deaf_.”

“I- I know… You’re right.”

_But why?_

“So _kneel_... Do not make me say it again.”

“Haha… Okay…” Yuuya mumbled, smiling anxiously and dropping to the floor. _This? This is fine. This is absolutely fine. For Sakuya, I would do anything. For Sakuya._

Iwamine seemed satisfied.

“Good. It’s a relief that you’re going to cooperate. Obedient pawns are far less trouble than feisty ones.”

Yuuya’s heart of stone was beginning to sink. Words could never hurt him, he had always assured himself, but that was before he had met Iwamine Shuu. An obedient pawn… Was that what he was? He smiled, despite the realization that Iwamine was absolutely right. Always keep smiling. That was what he had to do. Perhaps then, it wouldn’t hurt as much.

It had worked in the past, after all.

Unsurprisingly given the context, Iwamine unbuckled his belt. Yuuya was trembling. Was it from fear? Regret? Confusion? Most likely, all of the above and more. Upon removing the belt, Shuu paused again and examined Yuuya.

“...Take the coat off. It doesn’t suit you.”

As petty as the jab was, and as easily as he ignored such comments in his day to day life, it struck him hard this particular moment. He worked hard to look the way he did, and this peacoat had been a hefty investment. He’d received many compliments. What did Iwamine know about fashion? Upon calming down from the initial offense he’d taken, Yuuya realized how frayed his nerves truly were. Caring about insults to at a time like this? He must be mad.

In the end, how he felt didn’t matter. He had to take the coat off, and he did.

"See? You look better that way. Attempting to act suave really doesn't work for you... at least not now that I know what a coward you really are." 

Gulping and closing his eyes, Yuuya forced out a weak agreement, “Aha, I suppose you are right, sir.” His knees were already beginning to ache.

“Did I tell you to speak?”

“...”

“Precisely,” Iwamine said, moving back to Yuuya’s other side and staring down at him, “From now on, you are not to speak unless spoken to.” 

Yuuya wished for nothing more than to tell him to go die slowly. But how many times did the doctor need to reiterate it for it to sink in? He was wrapped around Iwamine’s finger. He was absolutely helpless. So he said nothing, and nodded his head. Iwamine smirked.

“Good boy.”

A terrible shiver went up Yuuya’s spine. He had called him that once before, and as if it hadn’t been bad enough then, it felt even more degrading and patronizing as he knelt before him. He averted his eyes to the floor in shame–an action he rarely did.

“Now, shall we continue where we left off? I think I need to break you in before I truly begin the experiments. So I’ll start small. Be grateful.”

He unbuttoned his pants. Yuuya closed his eyes and grimaced. Noticing his hesitance, Iwamine laughed, “What? Has a _suave_ man like you never performed fellatio before?” Yuuya didn’t respond and Iwamine scoffed, amused, “Aw… I’m glad you’re obeying the rules now. But answer me when I ask you a question.”

“I- Uh,” Yuuya stammered, “I’m more of a ladies’ man, you see...” He trailed off as Iwamine leaned down and softly, intimately, stroked his hair. It made him want to hurl.

“You are truly a terrible liar. I’ve seen you pitifully attempting to seduce your classmates,” Iwamine told him dryly, then clicked his tongue, “How amusing. To think one as flirtatious as you has never even reached third base.”

“Aha, you’re jumping right to conclusions, doctor,” Yuuya laughed, smiling despite the whirling panic in his head, “I most certainly have, with a lady!”

“Again, boy. You need not attempt to fabricate a reputation. I do not mind being your first,” He ‘assured’, “I simply must say, I am surprised. You certainly have the charm for it.”

Yuuya grew silent again. In truth… he had never wanted it. Sexy and luxurious was simply a catchphrase. His charm was his identity. His flirtations were his façade. The acts that could follow… had never appealed to him. Not genuinely. In fact, many a time, he had calmly and coolly denied a partner the end of the night they desired, opting instead to go no farther than making out. No one had minded. Not yet. He was polite enough, and his intentions clear from the start.

To have his own gimmick coming back to haunt him was truly sickening, and he almost wanted to laugh. He would have, were it not so disgustingly real.

Iwamine wasted no further time, not removing his pants, but simply pulling his cock out from his underwear. Yuuya’s breath grew rapid and he felt his heartbeat quicken. Unsure of how even to react, he simply squeezed his eyes shut and waited. Iwamine pressed his erect length to Yuuya’s pale cheek, slapping him lightly with it a few times, just to mock him. Yuuya grunted from the sheer disbelief of what was happening to him.

This was no mission. This couldn’t be real.

“I’m not sure if you’re aware, but you must open your mouth for this to work.”

Yuuya groaned, keeping his mouth pressed shut.

Iwamine yanked Yuuya's head closer by his hair and slid his dick to Yuuya’s lips, “That. Is an order.”

With a shaky breath, Yuuya did as he asked and Iwamine took the initiative.

At the very least, Iwamine was a well-groomed man. He had no particularly pungent odor, and was clean shaven. As it seemed he had no intentions of consensual activity, this was clearly out of preference rather than self-consciousness. As for his overall size… Yuuya supposed it was slightly above average.

Yuuya had never imagined himself giving oral to anyone, no matter the gender, but even if he had, being blackmailed into doing such was easily the least enjoyable thing on his list of potential first times. With no prior reference, though, Yuuya was unsure if penis usually tasted this way, or if Iwamine’s was unusually salty.

“Look. You did it,” Iwamine, even at times like this, spoke in an uninterested monotone, stroking Yuuya’s hair again, only to suddenly grip it tightly. Yuuya winced and Iwamine slowly pushed his cock slightly deeper into his mouth, “Was that really so hard? Anyway. Do you know how to continue, or must I baby you even now?”

Yuuya hesitated for too long. Before he could attempt to start it himself, Shuu was slowly feeding his length into Yuuya’s mouth, then throat. When it was not even halfway in, Yuuya gagged. Iwamine grimaced and pulled out.

“Disgusting. First you disobey me, and now I have to deal with your weak gag reflex?” He sighed, “I suppose I’ll have to… fix that… another day.” With his ominous words hanging in the air, he jerked Yuuya’s head forward by his hair and back onto his cock, “However, I assure you, vomiting on me is a guaranteed call to France.”

Yuuya nodded as well as he could with his mouth stuffed as it was. His head was reeling. Everything about this was wrong. So wrong.

“Use your tongue. Making me do all the work is rude, you know.”

Reluctantly, Yuuya swirled his tongue awkwardly around Iwamine’s tip. It seemed to do at least a little for him, because the doctor bucked his hips forward slightly and inhaled through clenched teeth. Iwamine let him tease him for a little longer, then opted to force his length into his throat again. This time, when Yuuya gagged, he didn’t withdraw. Instead, Yuuya began to panic and choke. He felt like he was going to throw up, and as Iwamine had stated, that would certainly not be an ideal outcome. Without thinking, he pulled his head away and gasped for breath.

“Excuse me?” Iwamine’s quiet, monotonous words felt angry, and he grabbed Yuuya’s hair again and yanked his head up. Yuuya winced, “Did I tell you to do that?”

“N- No, sir, I just… Aha–” Yuuya stammered, but Iwamine cut him off by entering him again, muffling his words. Before doing anything else, he looked down at the sniveling boy in front of him, amused, but not yet satisfied. Was that fear evident in his eyes? Hesitance in his actions? Truly remarkable. Iwamine wondered if any before him had drawn such emotion out of him.

Sakazaki Yuuya truly was quite the specimen. He looked forward to examining him intimately.

Without further words, Iwamine started rhythmically thrusting in and out of Yuuya’s mouth, causing him to gag and groan with every motion. Yuuya was mortified. This was easily the most humiliated he had ever felt, and his throat was already beginning to hurt. He felt dizzy. Nauseous. Short of breath. But he soldiered on, as he always did. Eventually, Iwamine stopped and tugged Yuuya’s head away. Yuuya coughed and sputtered, mouth still agape, and wiped the saliva from his chin.

“Now, for the scientific record, how do you feel right now?” Iwamine cooed, leaning down and stroking his cheek, “Be honest, please. I do not like incorrect data.”

Yuuya was stunned silent, shaking and staring blankly up at Iwamine as though he wasn’t even sure he knew the answer himself. He figured that sarcasm was not the correct option right now. Weakly, he smiled, “Haha… Are you sure… you want me–” He coughed again, “–to be honest?”

Iwamine was not amused, flicking Yuuya on the forehead, “Did I stutter?”

Still smiling in an attempt to convince himself he was fine, Yuuya told him as it was, “I feel absolutely awful!”

“Hm… I can do better than that.”

Before Iwamine even finished his sentence, Yuuya was throating cock again, this time deeper and faster. It was a repetitive, mind-numbing violation that made Yuuya not only gag and choke, but shake and want to cry. He would not cry, of course. He had not cried in front of anyone in a long, long, time. That would not stop now.

No more words were spoken for quite some time. The only sounds were those of Yuuya’s grossly pathetic gagging and whimpering. Iwamine liked the silence, taking this time to simply revel in the misery he caused. Yuuya, conversely, was doing everything in his power to ignore said misery, and failing spectacularly. After pulling away briefly a few times to avoid making the boy barf and also to let him breathe, Iwamine eventually reached a point at which he couldn’t take it any longer. Shoving his cock down Yuuya’s throat a few more times, he came into his mouth and Yuuya sputtered. Iwamine pulled out and grimaced at the line of semen he left trailing out of Yuuya’s mouth.

Shakily, Yuuya wiped it away. Shuu crouched down next to him and pinched his face, tilting it up to look at him.

“You did what I asked of you and it sufficed. But I expect improvement, and will ensure it happens…” He murmured. Letting go of Yuuya’s face and tucking his dick back into his pants, he replaced his belt and donned his jacket. Yuuya was still dumbfounded, kneeling on the ground in a state of sheer denial. Opening the door to the infirmary and not even bothering to wait for him, Iwamine stepped outside. “This has been educational… I’ll see you next week.”


	9. Olden Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was scared, I was scared  
> Tired and under prepared  
> But I wait for it  
> If you go, if you go  
> Leave me down here on my own  
> [Then I'll wait for you](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5iE4Z9jRZ_c)

“Sakazaki. Please read the next sentence in English.”

Yuuya was seated in his usual desk in his English classroom, staring vacantly out the window. While this wasn’t unusual for him, he didn’t notice when the teacher addressed him.

“Sakazaki?”

He blinked, “...Eh?”

The teacher sighed, “Please read the next sentence in English.”

Yuuya nodded and stood up, still somewhat dazed, and read in a clear voice, “The man faced much adversity, but kept his head held high.”

“Very good. Shirato, please read…”

As soon as he fell back into his chair, Yuuya felt numb again. What… had happened to him the night before? Had he been molested? Raped? He had never paid much thought to the exact meaning of said terminology, and had never imagined it would become so relevant. He chuckled lightly, shaking his head and staring out the window again.

Wow, it was a wonderful day out! He smiled. Nothing was wrong. Nothing was wrong at all.

At lunch, Tatsuya and a few others tracked him down. When Yuuya asked where Kamiya was, Tatsuya told him he was busy with student council.

“Eh?” Yuuya mused, “He holds such an esteemed position and I was unaware? How rude of me! I should pay better attention.”

Tatsuya gave him a smirk and rolled his eyes, “It’s not a big deal, dude. Anyway, did you get all that homework done? You seemed really swamped.”

Yuuya winked, “In a miraculous bout of determination, I steeled myself and managed! Does my studious nature allure you, _mon amie?_ ”

Tatsuya sighed, “No.”

Yuuya chuckled, “Ahaha, of course not.”

“You’re so weird, dude.”

“ _Moi? Au contraire!_ ”

By the end of the day, Yuuya was sure that about ninety-five of what he had said during the course of it was fake. In fact, so was about one hundred percent of what he felt. He was fine. What had happened to him yesterday was simply a bump in the road. Kamiya had more student council to deal with and Tatsuya had kendo, so Yuuya was left to his own devices. Or so he thought.

“Sakazaki! Yo!” A voice called out and Yuuya, though dead inside, smiled and waved at the group of boys approaching him. They were in his homeroom, and he knew them all well enough that they would be considered friends.

“Ah, _mes amis! Salut!_ ” he greeted happily, “To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you all?”

“We were just about to go study in the library. Wanna come? You always liven things up when we’re stressed about cramming.”

This, frankly, was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Of course! I would love to!”

“Heh, sweet.”

The squad made their way to the library and took a seat at a table. It was a rather uneventful study session, with Yuuya being somewhat more reserved than ever. He responded as usual when spoken to, but was not flirting as much as he usually did and seemed to be concentrating far too much on one page of his textbook. The words were a blur. He couldn’t focus on them at all.

Iwamine’s patronizing smirk. The harsh grip he held on his hair. The feeling… The feeling of being violated… For a moment, Yuuya forgot to breathe, a soft smile still plastered to his face. He felt as though his lungs might collapse.

_No._

Yuuya let out his breath with a quiet laugh, wiping the image out of his head.

_What are you doing? Stop thinking about that, Yuuya. You’re being silly._

After all, it was… just a blowjob. And Iwamine was an attractive man. How could he complain? Sure, he had never been sexually attracted to someone before, but he must have just been confused. He was fine.

“Sakazaki, I still don’t get this algebra shit. Do you understand? What the hell..?” A whiny, desperate voice addressed him. It was the boy sitting next to him. He had seen him a few times before, mostly because he had a tendency to create a scene wherever he went. He seemed to have a wide variety of illnesses and conditions, and everyone knew his name. Nitori.

“Ahaha, I think I grasp it pretty well. Would you like me to explain?” 

Nitori stared at him for a second and blinked, “Y- Yeah, that’d be great…”

Yuuya smiled and leaned over his book, explaining the concept with ease. He seemed flustered. This was a look Yuuya knew all too well. This boy had a crush on him.

Great.

He was… decently attractive, and seemed a good enough kid, albeit eccentric, but Yuuya had far too much on his plate. Any plans he’d had for romantic endeavors had been flushed down the toilet.

After a couple hours, the group disbanded and Yuuya walked home. He played soft jazz through his headphones with his hands in his pockets, lost in his thoughts as he walked. He wanted to get home, fall into his bed, and never get up again.

Halfway home, Yuuya realized he hadn’t checked in with Leone. It stung at his heart that he had forgotten. He would call him when he got home. He owed him that much.

Arriving at his apartment, he opened the door and let it slowly close. Dazedly, he stood in his entryway. He had done this the night before too. He was home. Safe. He could relax.

But he wouldn’t.

Sighing, Yuuya walked across his small room and flopped down on his bed without even removing his outerwear. Lying as though he were a dead starfish, he pulled out his phone and called Leone.

A gruff voice answered, “Hello?”

Yuuya smiled weakly at the sound of his voice. Perhaps calling him could actually calm him down a bit, “How are you?”

“Who is this..?”

Snickering, Yuuya raised his eyebrows, “You still don’t have caller ID? This is 2185, Mr. One. Get with the times!”

“'Course I don't,” Leone said matter-of-factly. Yuuya heard him take a sip of something he could only assume to be booze, whiskey most likely, knowing him, “You called the landline.”

“Ah, did I?” Yuuya laughed, lifting his hand above his head and staring at his fingers absently, “I apologize, sir. I forget that you’re the only person in my contacts whose ‘home’ number actually leads to a home phone.”

“Just be glad I remembered to update the number for you,” Leone said, “You very well could have been calling France.”

“Ah… true, true,” Yuuya admitted, “Anyway… how have you been?”

“...Fine, you?” Leone seemed a little taken aback by the sudden casual conversation, “Were you not calling to report?”

“Well I aided first period. Nothing happened of any interest,” Yuuya told him, “I figured I would tell you that, and then we could talk…” Yuuya paused before adding, “I missed you.”

“Uh,” Leone mumbled, “Are you smoking pot again, Sakazaki? I told you to lay off on that.”

“Ahaha…” In fact, Yuuya wasn’t sure himself why he had said that last part. It was more sentimental than he ever was, really. It set off red flags in Leone’s mind for sure, “Pay it no mind. I’m just homesick, is all.”

“Okay…” Leone muttered, “You _sure_ you’re alright, kid?”

“Yes,” Yuuya assured him, painfully convincingly considering the lie he was uttering, “I adore this school so far, but it’s so difficult to adjust… I mean, I fancy men, but what’s a school with no lovely mademoiselles?”

“That’s more like you, Sakazaki,” Leone said, taking another sip of his beverage, “But you’re just going to have to deal… We’re on a mission, remember?”

“I could never forget.”

“Yeah….” Leone went quiet, “Uh, anyway. If you’ve reported, I’ll leave you be.”

“One last thing, Leone…” Yuuya quickly added.

“Hm?”

“Could we… hang out sometime? Like the olden days?”

“You’re thinking about that at times like these? We don’t have time to goof around, Sakazaki. If we spend too much time together, people will start to catch on.”

Yuuya frowned, his brief solace seeming to fade away at his words, “Ah… yes. I guess you’re right… Well… Aha, have a good evening, sir.”

“You too, Sakazaki.”

At that, Leone hung up the phone. Sighing deeply, Yuuya dropped his hands back onto the bed, resuming his starfish-like state and letting his phone fall to the carpet. ‘I missed you?’ ‘Can we hang?’ What was he _saying_? He and One were close, it’s true, but not that close. At least not outwardly. Perhaps Yuuya’s frayed nerves were causing him to project the fatherly image he had in his head of Leone onto him more vehemently. It had to stop immediately.

Oh, how he wished he could tell him everything. Maybe he would understand.

Gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut, Yuuya had a thought.

_Papa… If you’re out there, if you’re listening… What do I do about this? How… do I handle it?_

No answer. Of course not. Sakazaki Sr. had been dead for over a decade, and had never answered his prayers before. Yuuya laughed bitterly, and perhaps in the past he would have teared up, but he did not cry over his father anymore. He had cried enough already.

Like the death of his father, yesterday’s events were in the past, and anything that would happen the next sunday would be the past the moment after. What Iwamine was doing to him was nothing to fret over. They had a deal, and for Sakuya, for his mother, Yuuya could handle anything.

He rolled over onto his stomach and sighed.

Absolutely anything.


	10. C'est la Vie

One month found itself slowly slipping by, and by the end, Yuuya Sakazaki found himself numb. In fact, even his birthday came and went without event. Leone may have texted him about it, but he didn't respond. He hadn't spoken to One since that Monday night when they called. No one else in the area knew or cared that he was a year older now, but he wondered if his mother remembered and was thinking about him. He wondered, even, if Sakuya remembered. But that was in the past now. Birthday's weren't always meant to be special, after all.

It was Sunday evening, and as had been the custom every week since the first, he would report to St. Pigeonations at seven PM. It had been essentially the same routine since the first night; a reluctant Yuuya entering the infirmary and being given the same task to do. It took less and less convincing each time for Yuuya to fall to his knees and do what was asked of him. It had been humiliating from the beginning, but it only seemed to grow worse when he stopped fighting back. It seemed that his dignity was no longer a viable thing to cling to.

But what good did refusal do anyway? The threat of his lie being revealed was enough to convince him in the end. Iwamine had him in the palm of his hand, and that was where he liked him.

After the last few weeks, he was particularly dreading tonight. Last week he had been sufficiently warned.

* * *

“You have improved,” Iwamine had told him coolly when he had finished, jerking Yuuya to his feet before even giving him time to wipe cum off his face, “But you still have a long way to go. Next week, I will perform a... preliminary inspection. I have to see what I’m working with, after all.”

“Preliminary?” Yuuya repeated, smiling weakly, and moving a shaking hand to his chin, “Is this truly only the beginning?”

Before he could wipe it away, Iwamine grabbed his wrist, moving Yuuya’s hand so that it only smeared across his face more. Yuuya winced. _Just imagine being back home, back in France. A cafe in Paris, or a beach… Anywhere but here. Anything but this._ As usual, it didn’t work.

Iwamine chuckled softly and finally let Yuuya wipe away the semen he had so animalistically marked him with, “Ha. It’s amusing that you’d think I would stop here.”

“Aha… Of course it is. May I ask another question?” Yuuya laughed.

“Perhaps. If you address me properly.”

Yuuya closed his mouth and inhaled through his nose, forcing out the words like they could kill him, “Might I ask another question… sir?”

Iwamine smirked evilly, but quickly lapsed back to solemnity, “You say it with such _disdain_ , Sakazaki-kun… What have I _ever_ done to you? I’ve given you a privilege. Not many can say they’ve had a sexual encounter with me.”

“Somehow, _sir_ I doubt that.”

Iwamine tsked, “You’re _so_ intuitive. Now ask your pointless question before I get bored and decide I don’t want to hear it.”

“Why… are you doing this?”

“You’ve asked me this every week since the beginning. I’ve decided: I’m most _certainly_ bored of hearing it.”

“Won’t you at _least_ give me a straight answer?” Yuuya nearly pleaded, becoming increasingly annoyed as he spoke, “It would definitely be nice to know why the _fuck_ you-”

“I have. It is simply for my own pleasure.”

Yuuya opened his mouth to protest, but Iwamine clamped his hand over it and leaned in very, very close. His violet eyes pierced into Yuuya like swords and his heart dropped. He was afraid. It was not often that he was afraid.

“I will not keep _taking_ this insolence from you. There’s only so much I can tolerate. Next asinine question or snarky remark I hear out of you… will be the final straw. I have Monsieur _Fucking_ Le Bel on speed dial.”

Perhaps it was the sudden use of profanity out of the mouth of an esteemed pervert, or maybe the sheer reality of it all dawning on him, but Yuuya was sufficiently spooked to the core. His body always seemed to shake on these Sunday night meetings, but now it seemed he trembled more than ever before. Keeping his hand over Yuuya’s mouth, Iwamine gripped him by the hair as he so often did. It felt controlling. It _was_ controlling.

“Do you understand now? Has it finally sunk into that thick skull of yours?”

Slowly and shakily, Yuuya had nodded.

* * *

Now, standing outside the infirmary door, Yuuya didn’t even want to think of what lay in store.

He knocked. 

“Come in.”

So far, nothing has changed.

Swinging open the door apathetically, he stoically entered the room. Iwamine was in his desk chair, as usual, running over some files. It almost bothered Yuuya how little he seemed to prepare for these meetings, like he only cared about what he was doing to Yuuya while it was happening and at zero other times. That which had a strong emotional impact on Yuuya meant nearly nothing to him. It was sickening. It made Yuuya’s stomach turn.

“Mmm…” Iwamine pondered, looking up and studying Yuuya for a moment, “You seem distant today.”

“Distant?” Yuuya said emotionlessly, “I have never held any attachment to you.”

“Oh naturally,” Iwamine assured him, “I made no such assumption. It is simply that I’ve noticed a wavering in the faux contentment you so often attempt to feign.”

Standing still in front of the door with his hands in his pockets, Yuuya stared down Iwamine from the other side of the room. The distance between them and their throwing of words made it seem like a petty game. A game Iwamine was rigged to win. Yuuya laughed bitterly, “You’re vehemently crossing the boundaries I made clear. Whatever do you expect me to say to that? ‘Ahaha… _c’est la vie?_ ’” He weakly mimicked his own empty smile, laughing as though everything were fine. Upon doing so, his face returned to its lifeless, neutral state. 

“Yes, in fact,” Iwamine said, “I was not expecting you to break so quickly. You’re far weaker than I thought you would be.”

Yuuya tensed, but shrugged, “What can I say? I lack resolve. You’re threatening a lot, in case you’ve forgotten.” He smiled brightly and sarcastically. “Now, can we move along with whatever sick, twisted fuckery you desire tonight so I can go home?”

“Now, now,” Iwamine murmured, getting up from his desk and approaching Yuuya, “I don’t appreciate your criticism of my work. Have you not learned to keep your mouth shut? It’s a good thing I devised a simple solution to that problem.”

For once, Yuuya fell silent. A solution was never a good thing coming from Iwamine Shuu. Perhaps… he should tone it down a bit. It seemed as though Iwamine was taunting him, insulting his resolve only to threaten him every time he disobeyed. It was dizzying and absolutely humiliating.

“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” Iwamine said wryly, taking a few strands of Yuuya’s hair in his hand and examining them, “Now, to business. Today is the preliminary inspection. As such, you will need to be on your absolute best behavior. Do you understand?”

Reluctantly, Yuuya mumbled, “Yes, si-”

Iwamine smacked him in the face before he could finish. Reeling from the sudden pain as well as the unexpected action, Yuuya held his cheek and gaped.

“Did I tell you to speak?”

Gritting his teeth behind closed lips, Yuuya shook his head. No matter what mind games Iwamine was playing, he had to keep his motivation clear. Sakuya’s life was in danger. His mother’s life was in danger.

Every façade he had crafted was in danger.

Yuuya reassured himself that it was all for the best. As he had the four weeks prior, he would do as Iwamine said.

“Good boy…” Iwamine purred, stroking his hair. This was something he did more often than Yuuya would have expected, but it somehow wasn’t surprising at the same time. One might not look at Iwamine and think, “Ah, he would certainly patronizingly praise his victims!” but it does not come as a shock that he does. Yuuya grimaced, still nursing the sting on his face, “Now Sakazaki, listen carefully. I will need your cooperation. Begin by taking off that garish peacoat of yours.”

 _Garish? It’s fucking black._ He wanted to tell him that he may have been confusing his vocabulary a bit, but it was absolutely not worth it. Especially with the lingering sting of where his cold, bony hand had slapped him. With this amount of power... Iwamine could say whatever he wanted. Hesitantly, Yuuya slid off his coat, folding it nicely and glancing around for somewhere to put it. Iwamine responded to this by taking it from him and tossing it across the room. Yuuya smiled. _Thank you! You’re so kind!_

“Don’t waste my time, Sakazaki. Just do as I say. Take off your shirt.”

Yuuya froze, “S… Seriously?”

Iwamine raised a hand as though to hit him. Yuuya winced. Iwamine snickered, “Do I sound like I’m kidding?”

“No, I-”

This time, Iwamine did hit him. Yuuya grunted.

“Are you truly so stupid as to continue talking when I’ve told you not to? How badly do you _want_ to die?”

Die?

Sure, Yuuya had considered the possibility of being murdered, but Iwamine had never insinuated such. At least not to him. To be threatened mortally now was unnerving, but unsurprising. He ignored the threat. To die now would almost be better.

No, he couldn’t say that. There was too much he had to live for. For now, at least.

Maybe someday.

Exhaling nervously, Yuuya began fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. Although it took him longer than it usually would, he was shirtless in no time at all. The entire time, Iwamine stared at him with his chin cupped in his hand, examining him as though he were a biological specimen. Having learned his lesson, Yuuya dropped it unceremoniously on the floor. 

Iwamine, who had backed away a few feet, was still staring, “Now, your pants.”

Yuuya opened his mouth, but closed it. He… would do what he was asked. Soon enough, he was stripped to his underwear and redder than a rose. He had figured that he would be used to torment and mockery at this point. He was wrong. As much as he wished to deny it, he knew what was coming next.

“You’re rather athletic, Sakazaki. Do you play any sports?”

Yuuya shook his head.

“Oh..? I do wonder where all that muscle came from...” Iwamine stepped closer to Yuuya and pulled him close by his waist. Yuuya reflexively tried to pull away, but Iwamine’s grip was cold and strong, and the threat loomed right over his head. He trailed his freezing hands over Yuuya’s bare, toned chest, and Yuuya shuddered. This was wrong. It was all so very wrong, “I must say, I prefer the scrawny type myself, but you’ll do. For my amusement, you’ll suffice.”

Iwamine reached down and slid two fingers into the waistband of Yuuya’s briefs. Panicking suddenly, Yuuya shoved Iwamine away, gasping, “S- Stop!”

That was not the correct reaction. Scowling, Iwamine pulled Yuuya back towards him, slapping him hard enough to knock his glasses off his face and gripping his neck so tightly that he winced, “What authority do you _have_?”

Yuuya whimpered and shook his head. He didn’t know. He just did not know. Fuming now, Iwamine stepped coldly away, leaving Yuuya to shiver in his underwear. What he was planning, Yuuya did not want to know, but would soon find out. Iwamine made his way to a shelf, rummaging around in a first aid kit. Eventually, he pulled out a roll of bandages and some gauze. Yuuya followed with wide eyes, now knowing exactly what he had intended.

“Iwamine, please, I… I’m sorry.” Yuuya blabbered, crossing his arms and completely forgetting that his gag order still stood, “I’ll do whatever you say. I’m an idiot. I know.”

“Knowing it is not enough if you continue to be one,” Shuu hissed, grabbing scissors off his desk and stepping back to where Yuuya cowered. He yanked a length of bandage off the roll, cutting it off and glaring at the boy, “Put your hands behind your back.”

“I- Is that really…” Yuuya began to ask, but he knew the answer. Besides, Iwamine looked a hair’s length away from slapping him again. Or worse. Obediently, Yuuya did so. Iwamine wrapped the bandage around his wrists repeatedly before tying it off with a neat knot. Yuuya struggled briefly, but it actually was rather tight. If anything, they seemed to only tighten as he moved. His heartbeat steadily increased until it felt like his chest was throbbing. Even his breath grew more shallow.

“Almost…” Iwamine murmured, “But as you know, I’ve had it with your interjections.” He picked up the gauze he had fetched and ordered Yuuya to open his mouth. Having learned his lesson and been rendered relatively helpless, Yuuya did, and it was subsequently stuffed with a large amount of bitter-tasting gauze. Yuuya whined plaintively, now muffled well enough. To secure it, Iwamine wrapped many layers of bandage around Yuuya’s head and secured it in the back.

Yuuya had thought he was already completely at Iwamine’s mercy. Now, bound and silenced, he knew he had been wrong.

Iwamine backed up a bit and admired his handiwork, “Ah. Much better. I must say I like you more already. Don’t you like it?”

Yuuya refused to dignify that with even a noise or a head-shake. Iwamine shrugged it off and stepped towards Yuuya, stroking his chest again. Yuuya closed his eyes and tried to think happy thoughts. It only lasted so long. With no one to stop him, Iwamine pulled off Yuuya’s underwear, “Step out of them.” Yuuya was in no position to disobey.

Without another word, Shuu held Yuuya by the shoulder and guided him across the room. It was mortifying being walked like a dog, unable to protest or even fight back. Although he had been held hostage before, this was far, far worse. Iwamine shoved Yuuya onto a cot and he grunted. With his hands bound behind him, lying on his was highly uncomfortable, but what was he to do? He adjusted himself rather pathetically so that he was at least propped somewhat upright against the elevated part of the cot. Iwamine didn’t seem to mind that.

“You are _so_ much easier to handle when you’re restrained like that,” Iwamine mused, leaning in and sliding his finger down Yuuya’s neck. Yuuya shuddered and closed his eyes. “And helplessness is a fitting look for you. It reflects on the outside how you surely always feel on the inside.”

Yuuya squeezed his eyes tightly shut and shook his head. Those were mere assumptions. Iwamine knew nothing about what Yuuya truly felt. This was all just grandiose talk, an attempt to break him down as far as he could. He wouldn’t let him. Not today.

“You filthy mongrel,” Iwamine mocked, dragging his fingernail down Yuuya’s chest, not hard enough to bleed, but hard enough to sting, “Trying to keep your tainted secret… What would you do if I were to just… call him right now?” He reached into his pocket as though to pull out his phone.

Yuuya tried to protest through his gag before realizing Iwamine was most certainly only fucking with him. His muffled sounds of alarm and widened eyes, though, were enough to make Iwamine laugh. He leaned over the side of the cot, face inches away from Yuuya’s, “Pathetic, pathetic, child. When will you learn? I have no reason to call him if you’re subservient. See? You are rewarded for your good behavior…” At the word ‘reward’, Iwamine reached down with his left hand, taking hold of Yuuya’s dick. Immediately, Yuuya tensed, letting out a whimper that could only be read as one of dismay. Iwamine rolled his eyes and pushed up his glasses with his unoccupied hand, “Oh, what? You do not _want_ me to reward you? Pity. I think I shall anyway.”

It felt as though his gut were going to implode. He had never been touched this way, not by anyone other than himself, that is, and it was a completely foreign and unwanted sensation. He moaned softly, pitifully, as Iwamine slowly stroked his cock. Perhaps there was a part of him that wanted this to happen… No. The only thing that wanted this was the instinct he was born with. The physical reaction of his dick growing hard in Iwamine’s hand. It made him sick.

“I can’t believe you’re enjoying this,” Iwamine murmured, cupping Yuuya’s cheek in his hand, “I guess I can’t be too surprised… evidently, you love to let others push you around. After all… what has that _dear_ brother of yours ever done for you?”

Yuuya scoffed. _Plenty, Iwamine. More than you will ever know._

But had he really?

Why _was_ Yuuya protecting him so vehemently?

Now, bound, gagged and being jerked off, was not a good time to be questioning his resolve. He closed his eyes and tried to hold back the feelings he was having. It felt too good. It felt so wrong, and yet it made him want more. With nothing more to say, and no way for his victim to speak, Iwamine continued his endeavor in silence. Yuuya squirmed slightly, but remained mostly stoic. In the beginning, that is. For the first few minutes, he managed to successfully curb his urge to moan or whine, but he had masturbated before. He knew and liked how it felt.

He had never wanted to experience it like this.

Unfortunately for Yuuya, Iwamine seemed to enjoy watching him try and fail not to show his pleasure. There was absolutely no way to win. He truly and utterly was at Iwamine’s mercy. Despite this, Yuuya was having trouble staying aroused. In fact, it had been at least twenty minutes already. Sighing softly and rolling his eyes, Iwamine had paused every so often to rest. It got tiring, after all. Perhaps were his mind not otherwise occupied, Yuuya would have wondered why he didn’t just switch hands. Eventually, Iwamine chuckled.

“Hohoho, you’re rather slow. As if I care. After all, you’re only hurting yourself. I’m not the one who’d rather this be over.”

At that, Yuuya stopped trying to hold back. Soon enough it became too much to handle. With Yuuya’s moans no longer repressed, and desperation clear, Iwamine stopped his repetitive motion and pulled his hand away. Yuuya whined.

“What? Now you _want_ me keep going? Hohoho. How amusing. What’s the magic word?”

Yuuya groaned loudly, eyes wide and pleading. He was done trying to act collected tonight. He was far too burnt out. He just wanted to be untied, and to go home, and if he had to ejaculate to get that, he would do so.

“I didn’t hear a please.”

Yuuya attempted again, but _of course_ all he managed was a muffled noise. Shuu smirked.

“Hoho… I never get tired of that. But fine. I suppose I’ll humor you.”

And so he did, and in a minute or two, Yuuya had left a stain on Iwamine’s cot. The doctor grimaced, “Good thing I have a dedicated and hardworking aide to clean that up.”

Yuuya only leaned his head back against the wall, skull throbbing and breath heavy. Everything was a blur. Why had this happened? What did he gain from jerking him off? Cleaning up? That was the last thing he could think of.

“Hmm… Would you like me to untie you?”

Wearily, Yuuya nodded. Iwamine scratched his chin.

“I see… But do you _deserve_ for me to untie you…?”

Staring blankly at Iwamine, Yuuya paused before... nodding again. Iwamine scoffed slightly, “Well, I suppose you are not wrong. I’m sure it’s no secret by now that I only aim to hurt you.”

It was clear, but somehow, hearing him say it so bluntly felt like a knife to the chest. _Just let me go. Please._ Theoretically, he had homework he should be doing. Instead, he would most likely just fall asleep and try to forget.

Shuu paused, but decided, “Alright. I have no reason not to, for tonight.”

Slowly but surely, Iwamine removed the layers of bandages around his wrists, leaving Yuuya to remove the rest himself. The sides of his lips felt raw and his mouth felt dry. His hands were shaking, his vision was blurry, and he trembled as he rose to his feet. It was then he had the misfortune of looking Iwamine in the eyes. Those eyes were full of malice. Full of sick, twisted, fulfillment in that which he had done. And Yuuya, nude and shaking, was a trophy of his accomplishment.

Yuuya laughed weakly and quickly crossed the room, dressing himself in a hurry. He was delayed slightly by his shaking hands, but he managed. He put on his jacket, fixed his hair, and nodded in Iwamine’s direction before stepping out the door. Taking a deep breath, he smiled vacantly and bowed.

“ _Adieu_ , doctor. I hope you rot in hell.”


	11. Fake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I made some edits to the last ten chapters, but I doubt anyone will go back and read them! I suppose this is just an update, just in case. They are very minor, but I would at least skim chapter 9 again due to the development of Whiny Algebra Boy ™, who comes up in this chapter.
> 
> tl;dr, his name's nitori

The sun seemed to be mocking him. Why was it that it could shine so brightly, so effortlessly, and he had to try beyond his capabilities? It was a twisted envy, Yuuya realized, gazing at the sky as he munched very absently on his sandwich. He was no celestial being. He could not just shine on a whim. But he most certainly could try.

Tatsuya, Kamiya and Nitori had invited him to eat today. It was dizzying to smile, to joke and to laugh, after everything he had experienced the night before. Burying his feelings, though, was simply a necessity if he were to move on with his life. He had more than enough evidence pointing towards Iwamine as a Hawk, but what he lacked desperately was proof. That, and resolve. He would have to explore more on his own time, as he had promised One, but he shuddered at the thought. Even the concept of spending more time in that sickening infirmary was enough to make him woozy. He shook his head and laughed at a joke someone had told. If he couldn’t put his discomfort behind him, hiding it would would simply have to suffice.

He still had not reported to One. Not once since the night they called. 

“So, Kamiya,” Tatsuya started, speaking around a mouthful of udon, “How’s nerd council?”

Kamiya rolled his eyes, adjusting his collar and shrugging, “It’s okay, I guess. I don’t think anyone listens to me much… A lot of my ideas just get glossed over, and they always stick me with the dirty work. It sort of sucks...”

“That does suck,” Tatsuya agreed, slurping up some broth, “I’m glad I don’t do clubs or aiding. So much work, you know? Extracurriculars are lame, if you ask me.”

“But Tatsu, you do kendo,” Kamiya told him, “That’s an extracurricular activity.”

“Did kendo. I did.”

Yuuya raised an eyebrow, “You quit?”

Tatsuya nodded nonchalantly, putting his bowl down and scratching his neck, “Uh, yeah. It got boring.”

Narrowing his eyes, Kamiya blinked, “That’s… so unlike you. Are you sure you’re alright, Tatsu?”

“Yeah, duh,” Tatsuya assured, smirking, “I just think I’ll spend more time playing video games and smoking, you know? I think that’s what life’s all about. Besides, it’s not like I’d ever make it to being a pro.”

“But, you were really good, and-” Kamiya started, but Yuuya put a hand on his shoulder.

“Kamiya-kun, I think you should let it rest,” he told him gently, “Not all hobbies are forever. People are allowed to grow and change. Perhaps Tatsuya-kun just wants to live while he’s young!”

“Exactly, Sakazaki!” Tatsuya exclaimed, throwing his arm around him. Yuuya froze at the touch, “See, Kamiya? He gets it. Maybe you should loosen up a bit. I still can’t believe you won’t try dope.”

“I’ve _told_ you, Tatsu. Weed is bad for you,” Kamiya sighed, “Whatever, I guess. Suit yourself. If you die when you’re twenty-five, know I warned you.” He paused for a moment, “I still think it’s a shame… I don’t know what I’d do if I quit student council.”

“Try something new?” Yuuya suggested, “I hear bird-watching club is looking for new members.”

Kamiya stared at him as though he had sprouted a mouth on the back of his head, “What?”

“I said, bird-watching club is-”

“No, before that.”

Yuuya furrowed his brow, “Try something new?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t do that.”

“Why not?” Yuuya asked, but Tatsuya seemed to know. He attempted to toss a piece of rice into his mouth and missed completely before talking.

“Kamiya’s convinced that he’s only good for one thing,” Tatsuya explained, “I tell him he’s wrong but, I guess you can’t make a career out of yo-yo-”

“Shut _up_ , Tatsu!” Kamiya muttered, blushing and kicking him in the shin, “It’s not… that I think I’m good for nothing, it’s just. Student council is all that I know.”

“Hmm… I suppose…” Yuuya pondered that for a bit. All that he knew? What a sad way to live. Briefly, he pitied him for having such a narrow outlook on his life, but it dawned on him that was rather hypocritical. After all… without Sakuya to protect, what was Yuuya good for?

Perhaps, according to the doctor, one other thing.

_Get on your knees._

His breath hitched in his throat as the words echoed far too freshly in his mind. _Breathe, Yuuya,_ he commanded himself, smiling and inhaling deeply, _You don’t have time to be thinking about that._

“ _Ack!_ ” Nitori, who had been uncharacteristically quiet for the last few minutes, doubled over and clutched his stomach, “Ahh… This food… I feel like I’m going to throw up……”

With a lurch in his stomach, Yuuya could say the same.

Yuuya was too distracted to worry about whatever ailed the boy. Kamiya seemed to be talking to him, and Tatsuya looked like he almost cared. That should be enough. Yuuya was smiling softly, trying to get the vivid memories out of his head. He began to shake, but he gripped his own wrist in a weak attempt to stop the tremors. Thankfully, Kamiya and Tatsuya seemed sufficiently absorbed in Nitori’s sudden bout of severe nausea. Good. Let the sick boy’s problems overshadow his own, yes?

_Put your hands behind your back._

Yuuya cringed. This was not the first time a flashback like this had happened, but as of yesterday, it was beginning to be somewhat harder to keep himself composed under the pressure. Iwamine’s voice echoed in his ears as the others voices barely reached them.

“Ungh… Kamiya-kun, I think I was poisoned.”

_Helplessness is a fitting look for you.”_

“P- Poisoned? Ah… is he choking?! Tatsu, what do I do?!”

 _What authority do you_ have _?_

“I dunno… The heimlich?”

_You will obey my every command._

“Hnn… S- Someone… take me…. to… the infirmary.”

Suddenly, Yuuya snapped out of it. The infirmary? Absolutely not.

“Ahaha, that won’t be necessary!” He interrupted, blinking and using the newfound distraction to keep his mind off of things, “You’re in the presence of the best aide in the school, after all!”

“Oh, yeah!” Kamiya gasped, “That’s true! Sakazaki-kun aids for the doctor!”

Nitori locked eyes with Yuuya as he got up and walked around to the other side of the table, still clinging to his throat as though it were closing. He was a strange looking kid, now that he took a good look at him. He was a first-year, like him, but it felt as though he were only in junior high. His eyes were wide and somewhat buggy, but perhaps that was simply due to his large oval-shaped glasses. Yuuya supposed he was more cute than handsome. Like a child. He found himself pitying him somehow, and carefully approached him.

“Nitori-kun,” Yuuya said calmly, despite having just been panicking mere moments ago, “Let go of your neck and open your mouth. If you were really poisoned, I have to make sure none of the tainted substance is still in your throat.” Of course, a normal infirmary aide should call poison control, but he was more than that. He had been trained to deal with poisons far before his mission had been Iwamine Shuu. He would just hope none of the others realized that doing such on his own was not typically something learned while aiding.

Nitori blinked a few times, seeming to hesitate before slowly lowering his hands, “Er, uh, I… I spit it out.” Upon saying this, he opened his mouth.

Yuuya smiled, but raised an eyebrow somewhat quizzically. Was it just him, or did Nitori seem fine all of a sudden? Despite this, he still held Nitori’s chin gently, tilting up his head so he could peer into his esophagus. It was clear. In fact, it didn’t even seem like he had eaten anything. Glancing at the table, that was confirmed. His lunch had barely been touched, and there was certainly no sign of any food having been spit out in the vicinity.

Was this all just a ruse?

“Nitori…” Yuuya murmured, “You seem fine… are you sure you don’t just have a stomachache?”

Laughing a little, Nitori smiled. Something about that smile made Yuuya uneasy, almost as though he were looking into a mirror. Was this… how he looked to other people? No, it couldn’t be… if it were this obvious his smiles were fake, he would have been figured out years ago... _It simply takes one to know one,_ he supposed.

“Ahaha…. That must be it, then,” Nitori decided, fiddling with the thin scarf he always had haphazardly draped over his shoulders, “I guess I overreacted.” _Overreacted? More like overplayed,_ Yuuya figured. This had to have been on purpose. _A cry for attention, perhaps?_

“Overreacted?!” Kamiya exclaimed, “You seemed like you were dying! That’s a _huge_ understatement.

“But I really _did_ think I was poisoned,” Nitori whined, pouting sadly, “Did someone give me gluten? I swear… I have celiac disease.”

“Never heard of it,” Tatsuya said with a shrug, “But take it easy next time, okay? Just ask Yuuya for help. You don’t need to make a big deal.”

It was then that students began filing out of the courtyard. Tatsuya groaned and Kamiya stood up, yawning before waving goodbye, “I guess lunch is over. I’ll see you guys around.”

“Bye Kamiya,” Tatsuya said, stretching his arms and rising himself, “I’m also out. Gotta go to class and pretend to care.”

“ _Adieu, mes amis!_ I shall see you in a few moments,” Yuuya assured them, “But I have to run to the bathroom first.”

“Didn’t need to know that, but okay,” Tatsuya said, “See you around, guys.”

As the two walked away, Yuuya turned towards Nitori, who was staring blankly in their direction, “Nitori-kun?”

He blinked and shook his head, tilting his head up at Yuuya, “Yeah?”

Softly, Yuuya smiled at him, “You… you don’t have celiac disease, do you?”

Nitori seemed to ponder that, “Well, it could be ulcers.”

“Ahaha… I understand,” Yuuya said. Clearly, trying to get this kid to admit he’s only faking would not be worth his time, “But I would like to let you know that this isn’t the only way.”

“Um… what?” Nitori seemed confused, beginning to nibble on his already-short nails.

“Whatever you seek…” Yuuya told him solemnly, “This is not how you find it.”

Averting his eyes, Nitori packed up his nearly untouched lunch and stood up from the table, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sakazaki, but I’ll keep it in mind.”

Sighing, Yuuya nodded, “Please do, Nitori. Just… come to me if you need help, alright?”

Nitori seemed baffled by his genuine concern, which only seemed to confirm Yuuya’s suspicions that he was simply looking to get noticed, “Uh… Yeah. Okay. I will.”

“Thank you.”

“Bye, Sakazaki.”

“ _Adieu, mon amie!_ ”

When Nitori had left, Yuuya took a deep breath and scratched his head. Whatever was wrong with him, Yuuya wanted to help. If all he could do was keep him out of the doctor’s clutches, that is what he would do. As an agent, it was his job to protect civilians from dangerous characters after all. While he walked to class he pondered what his reasons were for becoming so overprotective. Shaking his head slightly, he laughed as it dawned on him.

He wanted to save at least one. After all, it was far too late for him to save himself.


	12. Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You'll break my will  
> You'll sell my soul  
> You'll take my heart and replace it with a gaping hole  
> And step on me  
> [But I won't let you](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bzGimFtDeSI)

Time went on.

Months passed and every Sunday nothing changed. Sometimes Iwamine would simply force him to blow him. Sometimes he would _pity_ him and allow him to get off instead. Now, his hands remained tied no matter what action was being performed. It was mortifying… but Yuuya, with a sinking heart, realized he was beginning to get used to it. This… this for three more years? He could handle it. He hated it. But he could handle it.

On this particular Sunday night after sucking Iwamine off, Yuuya had been forced to beg. As usual.

“Hohoho…” Iwamine snickered, “Your oral skills are truly getting better. This makes for a good study, don’t you think? Just _why_ are you doing a better job? Perhaps I should run more tests...”

Yuuya knew better by now than to dare speak. He wasn’t gagged, not on days like today, but he didn’t need to be to be a silent fool. Iwamine knew that Yuuya was his slave no matter what he did… to gag and bind him was simply a measure he desired. A measure to further mock the boy and his complete and utter helplessness.

“Well, we’ll see. I still find it a shame that your gag reflex is so… _hindering_... I’ve noticed that you’ve been repressing it, but I’m afraid it’s not sufficient… Interesting. You _do_ care.”

Yuuya glared up at Iwamine, who leaned over him mockingly, but it was difficult to feign any dignity when your face was covered in semen and your hands were tied behind you. Yes. He had been attempting to repress his gag reflex. He’d Googled it, in fact. It was possible to make it less reactive, but not to remove it completely. Yuuya sort of wished Iwamine hadn’t noticed. It was less humiliating if he didn’t know how pathetic he truly was being… if vomiting on Shuu was an immediate call to France, Yuuya would do anything to avoid it.

Yuuya would do anything Iwamine wanted.

“You’re almost… cute,” Iwamine noted, scratching his chin, “I don’t particularly want to let you go today.”

Blinking and inhaling deeply, Yuuya remained silent. This threat was nothing new.

“Hmm… Watching you so helpless is just so fascinating… but do you _really_ want to go home?”

No response. Iwamine kicked Yuuya in the gut. Doubling over and wincing, Yuuya groaned.

“Answer me, you fool.”

Having learned by now that ‘answers’ needn’t and shouldn’t use words, Yuuya nodded. Iwamine smiled sickeningly, stroking Yuuya’s cheek and wiping his own come all over his face. Yuuya closed his eyes. Breathe in. Breathe out. You’ve done this all before.

“I see… but just how badly do you want to be released?”

“...”

“Good boy… but you may speak.”

“I’d really like to.”

Iwamine rolled his eyes sarcastically, “Convincing. Give me more.”

Yuuya gritted his teeth, “Please, sir.”

“Hohoho…” Iwamine laughed, “Do you hear yourself? You barely resist anymore… While your compliance is sufficient… It makes for a dull experiment.”

Yuuya gulped. It took every bit of his willpower not to ask what he meant… but he had learned by now. He was not a brat anymore.

_Haha… merely a brat. Is that how he viewed me? What am I now? His bitch?_

“Well… we will cross that bridge when we come to it, no? For now, I expect you to beg.”

“Please…” Yuuya whispered, almost bitterly, “Let me go.”

Iwamine sighed, “This really is getting boring isn’t it..?”

“...Please.”

“What’s the magic word?”

“Please, _sir,_ ” Yuuya murmured, eyes blank and dull. He felt broken. Empty inside. Any emotion he had felt was locked where no light could reach. All of what he did on Sunday nights was for Sakuya. He was a machine to do Iwamine’s bidding, but that was fine. Fine so long as Sakuya was fine.

“...Fine. I’ll let you off easy today, Sakazaki,” Iwamine growled, walking around to untie his wrists, “But next week… do not expect such mercy.”

* * *

The next Tuesday, Yuuya aided in the infirmary as usual. The night before’s façade devoid of emotion had been smoothly replaced with his usual one full of joy. Students came and went. He aided those he could, and attempted even those he was not quite certified to help. After all… his basic first aid training was surely a better solution than sending them to the doctor.

He wouldn’t wish that on his worst enemy.

“Ah… Hmm… It seems you’ve sprained your left wrist, _mon amie_... Again! Let me guess: fighting? Oh, dear… Merely a kiss cannot fix this, I’m afrai-”

“Sakazaki-kun. Come here.”

At the sound of the doctor’s voice calling him from across the infirmary, Yuuya froze involuntarily. Despite it being an instinct brought on by trauma, he still berated himself for it. He should be stronger than this. Iwamine’s words… in the context, they were so innocent. The doctor simply needed to speak to his assistant for a moment. But having heard similar commanding words too many times before, Yuuya couldn’t help but feel as though he were in danger, even now. _Keep it together,_ he thought with a smile, _This is only your job, after all!_

“Haha, hold on, _mon cherie_!” Yuuya told the rather apathetic boy he’d been nursing, “Duty calls! For now, try to keep that still, okay?”

The boy shrugged and Yuuya whirled around with a flourish. There were a few other kids in the infirmary. One of them seemed to have nothing more than a paper cut and was being handled by another assistant. Another was resting on a cot. Yuuya tried to pretend nothing had ever happened on that cot. If only that poor boy knew… Yuuya pushed the thought aside. He was an _exceptional_ aide, after all… he’d cleaned it well.

Each and every time.

Flashing a confident grin, Yuuya approached Iwamine’s desk. The doctor’s face, as per usual, was stoic and seemingly uninterested in everything that went on around him. Yuuya knew better. Iwamine was only uninterested in the things that didn’t cause someone physical or emotional pain. Not enough of the people in the room were hurt right now, and the one that was barely seemed to care. That... was _boring_.

“You rang, doctor?” Yuuya greeted him in his signature chipper manner. Iwamine rolled his eyes.

“We’re out of bandages… It seems they depleted rather quickly. Odd.”

Yuuya furrowed his brow and continued smiling, but perhaps only Iwamine would notice the vacancy in his eyes, “Oh? We have? I wonder why…”

“Mm. Indeed.” Iwamine mumbled… and was that a flicker of a smirk Yuuya noticed cross his lips? “It’s truly a quandary…. Anyway, the school board finds it ‘unsanitary’ and ‘inhumane’ to use bandages that are already soaked with blood, so please, make yourself useful and fetch some from the storage closet down the hall.”

Yuuya blinked, “...Shouldn’t I finish treating Ak-”

“He can wait. Besides… his sprain will require _my_ assistance.”

The thought made Yuuya’s stomach churn, but he knew better than to make too many excuses. It was likely Iwamine would not try anything risqué while other people were around, but there was still a sinking fear that perhaps there was worse yet to come. Despite every agent’s instinct telling him to stay and monitor the room, Yuuya knew that were he to speak up, it would draw attention to the fact that he knows too much about what Iwamine is capable of… aside from murder, of course… Iwamine himself made that almost _too_ blatantly clear.

He knew he had sworn to protect Nitori… but Yuuya could not save every soul in the school. Would he have to stand by and watch civilians suffer his fate or worse, simply to keep a secret he’d foolishly held his whole life? The guilt was already overtaking him… but he would do it.

Yuuya had come this far. If one or two citizens had to die for him to keep this secret… then so be it.

“You’d better not try anything while I’m gone, doctor Iwamine!” Yuuya taunted, raising his eyebrows, “As a hero of justice, it’s my job to ensure the safety of those around me.”

Iwamine laughed, “Ohoho. I assure you, Sakazaki-kun. There’s no need for you to worry… that much.”

Yuuya narrowed his eyes, “Just know… I’ll be back before you can blink!”

“I’ll treasure the peace and quiet while I can.”

At that, Yuuya winked and twirled around, making his way swiftly out the door. Attempting to re-wire his frayed nerves, he focused on his small mission. He needed to fetch bandages, which he would calmly deny were to eventually be used to bind and gag him, for the doctor, who he would simply insist had done nothing to wrong him. The storage closet was at the other end of the hall, but he made it there in a flash, snatching up the first roll of bandages he found and immediately turning back. The trip took him less than two minutes. He burst back into the infirmary and found…

Everything as normal.

“You know,” Iwamine was softly and eerily informing the boy with the sprained wrist, “It would be a lot simpler if I were to just amputate it… it would be going to a good cause… Science, that is.”

“Doctor,” Yuuya laughed, cracking a toothy grin, “That’s no way to talk to a patient!”

Iwamine looked up from where he’d been examining the injury, “Hmm… You may be right, Sakazaki.”

“...Eh?”

“I certainly should have asked to draw blood first.”

Yuuya sighed and shook his head, smiling as though his sick, macabre thoughts were simply an endearing character trait, “Oh, doctor! Always a jokester… anyway.” He held up the bandages triumphantly, “I brought them; and in record time, I might add!”

Iwamine simply nodded vaguely towards a shelf, “Put them over there.”

Yuuya paused and glanced at the deadpan student whose wrist was idly lying in Iwamine’s hands… he was still exactly that. Deadpan. Aside from the doctor’s characteristic murderous ideations, the injured boy–as well as every other student in the room–noticed nothing odd about their conversations. In fact, their conversations _weren’t_ even odd. During the week it was as though nothing at all had happened. No blackmail. No assault. No secrets.

Simply a creepy doctor and his sexy and luxurious assistant.

“Of course, doctor. I’ll leave them there…” Still lost in his thoughts at how easy this all was to hide, Yuuya meandered towards the shelf and slowly set down the roll. He rested his right hand on the shelf drumming his fingers as he pondered. Even now… his life was a lie, wasn’t it? Was it really all that hard to pretend?

“Excuse me..? Ah… I have a terrible headache...”

Yuuya blinked and turned towards the voice. Someone else had entered the infirmary.

“Ah! _Bienvenue!_ Shall I help you with that?” Yuuya greeted him with a welcoming smile. As he walked over to him and began to help, all of his thoughts faded away. Until Sunday, he was Sakazaki Yuuya, infirmary assistant. Until Sunday, he would be nothing more and nothing less. 

Until Sunday, Sakazaki Yuuya could pretend to be happy.


	13. Resolve

The next day after school, Yuuya stood nervously outside the door to the fourth floor maintenance closet. He should knock… He needed to knock. Yet his hand hesitated whenever he raised it… The inevitable lecture that he knew awaited him was not something he looked forward to.

He was supposed to report–even if nothing much had happened–after every time he cleaned the infirmary. The day before, he had failed to do so… again. He had not reported for over two months.

Sakazaki Yuuya did not like being a failure, but it seemed that inevitably, he always was.

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to quietly knock in the proper pattern on the door. It took a moment before the door opened and he was face to face with his mentor, and admittedly, father figure. No child liked to see their parent upset with them, and the disappointment was evident in his narrow eyes. Yuuya averted his own to the floor, frowning solemnly.

“...Look who finally decided to show up.”

 _Leone… Je suis désolé..._ He wanted to say, but the words would not come out. He simply gazed at a speck of dirt on the doorframe and waited for whatever further words would be cast at him. The silence was unbearable, but once it ended, Yuuya wished it would return.

“Come in, agent,” Leone addressed him gruffly, and Yuuya felt like he’d been punched in the gut. If they weren’t in the heat of a very dire mission, he only called him ‘agent’ when he was upset. It was impersonal, formal, and detached him from the emotional bond they held. _Perhaps it’s better that way,_ Yuuya thought, _I’d rather he be disappointed in me as an agent than as a person._

After all, if he knew what Yuuya let Iwamine do to him behind the infirmary walls, he most certainly would be the latter.

Yuuya reluctantly stepped into the room and took a seat on his usual couch. Leone unsurprisingly sat across from him, but unlike the usual calm, friendly atmosphere that surrounded them when they sat like this, the room seemed cold. It was as though there was a distance of a thousand miles between them, but they were mere feet apart. The couch was so puffy that Yuuya felt he could just sink into it. Maybe, if he collapsed far enough into the down, he could escape this conversation. Or better yet–his entire life.

“Do you understand that you’re going against your orders, agent?”

Yuuya sighed, “I… I do, sir. I just-”

“Please,” Leone interrupted him, still quietly, looking him sternly in the eyes. As he was someone who often did not make eye contact, this was unnerving and only caused Yuuya to slink deeper into the couch. He gulped and let Leone continue, “I don’t… want to hear your excuses right now.”

“Okay.”

Leone took a deep breath and templed his fingers, resting his elbows on his knees, “You knew you were expected to report to me after every day you cleaned the infirmary. I messaged your phone, your email, even your pager. No response. You might think it’s fine to just not report if nothing out of the ordinary happens, but agen…” He trailed off, staring into space for a second before continuing with a sigh, “Sakazaki… If something happens to you, I need to know. You _have_ to tell me you’re okay. Even if it’s just a text message.”

“Ahaha…” Yuuya chuckled weakly, brushing his fingers against a seam on the sofa, “But… what could possibly go wrong, Leone? I know what I’m doing, and I-”

“You’re dealing with a _murderer_ , Sakazaki!” Leone growled, and although his voice barely grew louder, it was clear he was distressed. Upon realizing his voice had risen, even slightly, Leone was unnerved even himself. Inhaling deeply through his nose to compose himself, he continued, leaving Yuuya confounded by his display of emotion, “You can’t… You can’t just do this alone. We’re a team, Yuuya. What happened to Sexy and Suave meets Bright and Massive?”

At the sound of his given name, Yuuya was unsure how to react. He had always been ‘Sakazaki’ to Leone, no matter what bond they held. To be addressed like this now was startling to say the least. He was quiet for a moment before he spoke, “I… I understand. I’m sorry.”

“Is that all you’re going to say to that..?”

“I don’t know what else to say, sir.”

“Okay,” Leone sighed, laying his head back against the couch cushion behind him and sighing in resignation, “So be it, I guess.”

“...I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Okay… What’s gotten into you, anyway?” Leone muttered, scratching his stubbly chin, “You’ve never acted like this, and I’ve known you since you were… how long has it been?”

Yuuya laughed sadly, turning the corners of his lips up just a little, “Two years, sir.”

“Right…” Leone mumbled distantly, running a hand through his somewhat greasy hair, “Somehow… it seems like it’s been longer… But that’s beside the point. What matters, kid...” He seemed to hesitate, as though the words he was about to speak could endanger him somehow, “...is that I care about you.”

Although it was already established, Yuuya felt guilty to hear those words come out of his mouth. Leone was always so reserved about their relationship. Although the attachment was there, he preferred to keep it on the down low, even between them, as it interfered with their professional relationship. To have him confess verbally how worried he was about him only solidified what Yuuya already knew. Lying to Leone about what Iwamine was doing was only going to harm them both.

_He’s hurting me, Leone. He’s hurting me._

“I know, sir… I care about you too.”

_I’m sorry, Leone. I’m sorry._

“So won’t you please tell me what’s going on?” Leone asked quietly. His expression seemed to soften, but his lips remained firmly pressed in a straight line. It seemed as though he was beginning to get over his initial burst of feelings and return to his more neutral state, “Nothing you tell me could possibly do me any harm. I’ve… seen plenty of kids your age bite the dust because they were reckless… I don’t think I could stand to see it again.”

Yuuya stared blankly in Leone’s direction, but he was not looking at him, rather through him. Pondering. He thought back on what he had promised Leone at the beginning of the year.

_“Well, you’ll have to stay alive to ensure that.”_

_“And I will!”_

_“...you’d better promise me, kid.”_

_“I promise, sir. I promise.”_

His oath had been merely to stay alive… and that seemed like it wouldn’t be an issue. Iwamine’s ‘agreement’ was clearly intended to benefit him on a regular schedule. As strange and uncharacteristic as it was, he seemed to have no motive to murder Yuuya. Not yet. Not until he had done everything he wanted with him… and Yuuya would cross that bridge when he came to it.

For now, he was not in mortal danger, but how could he convince One of that? The truth? That was out of the question. The humiliation he would feel would be worse than Sundays themselves and he had no way to explain why he was letting Iwamine treat him like that… not without revealing the truth about Sakuya.

As much as it tore at his heartstrings, Yuuya knew what he had to do.

Lie.

“I wouldn’t want to become another statistic… so okay… I- I’ll tell you what’s wrong.” Yuuya solemnly mumbled, sincerity in his eyes. He even stuttered for genuity, “It’s embarrassing to say, Leone. That’s why I’ve kept it secret for so long.”

“Just tell me,” Leone said softly, “I won’t judge.”

Yuuya took a moment as though steeling himself to confess… in reality, he was attempting to formulate an excuse. _In order to create a convincing argument, one must work with what he knows,_ Yuuya thought methodically, almost as though this lie were a mission itself. With a sinking feeling, Yuuya realized what he knew best at this stage in his life.

_Leone… I am afraid._

“Ah well… it’s about this entire mission, you see...” Laughing awkwardly, Yuuya smiled, “To be frank, sir, I’m terrified. Of the Hawks. Of how close I come to death every day in this line of work… Of Iwamine.”

Perhaps he specified the latter for his own sake. He’d learned that the best way to bury the guilt of lying is to simply sprinkle in some truth.

Leone deadpanned, “That’s the biggest load of bullshit you’ve ever spouted, kid... and that’s a feat.”

Yuuya only blinked. He would not be subverted by some initial doubt. Sighing, he continued, “Haha… I knew you’d say that, but I only wish I were kidding… Pathetic, I know, but I’m as serious as war.”

Leone narrowed his eyes, “You’re really that messed up over a few frayed nerves…? I’d have thought you’d be excited to finally get out into the field. This is your first official mission outside of France. Your first as more than a trainee…”

“I’d have thought that too,” Yuuya agreed, faux-nervously adjusting the clips in his hair, “I’ve wanted nothing more since I joined the Doves, sir, than to travel the globe and undertake mission after mission… But Leone… This is no test run. No undermining of a small drug cartel in Paris. As you said yourself… we’re dealing with a murderer… I’m scared, Leone. I’m not as strong as I act.”

“Mm. Old news, kiddo.,” Leone paused for a moment then sighed, resting his elbow on his knee and leaning his head in his palm, “But you’re baffling me. If that’s true, wouldn’t you be _less_ compelled to act alone?”

Yuuya felt as though he were going to throw up. He was sick with himself. How could he be saying this all to the one adult figure he had ever been able to trust? Weakly, he answered, “Ahaha… ‘Acting alone’ requires _acting_... and alas, I was a sitting duck. I have done no more investigation than aiding when I was scheduled…”

At least that much was true.

Leone was still reeling, “Why… didn’t you just tell me?”

“I was afraid to face you, Leone. I worried that if I told you how scared I was, you’d send me back to France. Get a better, more confident agent to take my place…” Yuuya whispered, a painfully convincing shame in his expression… but perhaps the shame was real. He was a coward for lying, in the end. “After all, I’ve never had all that much resolve.”

Leone stared at Yuuya, dumbfounded. Was he serious? He sure _seemed_ serious. In fact… he seemed like he was about to cry. Leone sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead. It felt like the boy was thirteen again, full of angst and hormones. “You’re not fucking with me, are you?”

Yuuya’s heart stung, but he slowly shook his head, “I’m sorry, Leone… But it’s true. I’m a disgraceful excuse for a Sexy and Suave agent…”

“Don’t talk like that,” Leone grumbled, “We’re not gonna send you back to France. I was scared on my first mission too, kiddo. We all were... Just tell me next time instead of avoiding both me and your job, okay? It doesn’t make you a disgrace.”

Yuuya smiled weakly. Perhaps his fabricated fear didn’t make him a disgrace, but he certainly knew what did, and he had a kind doctor to remind him of that as often as he could. Leone’s eyes were kind… soft and warm. Looking into them, Yuuya had the briefest flicker of an impulse to give up the act here and now… He could break down into tears and tell him everything. Maybe he would understand.

But like a firefly in the night, the light was there and then was gone. There was no way he could tell him. Not now. Not ever.

Yuuya stared vacantly at the carpet, lost in his thoughts until he finally remembered to respond to Leone’s reassurance.

“I…” Yuuya murmured at last, “Thank you, Leone… I needed to hear that.”

Leone averted his eyes and coughed, “Uh, yeah. Any time. But please… report to me from now on, okay? And if you need backup… I’m always waiting.”

Yuuya laughed softly and winked, “Alright Mr. One. I’ll carve it into my little pigeon heart.”

Leone moved as though he were going to stand up… then hesitated. Swallowing and glancing side to side as though someone would be watching, he rose and crossed the few feet to where Yuuya was sitting. Crouching down, he gave him a tentative, heartful embrace.

It had always been so meaningful when Leone hugged him. The tenderness of a father he never truly had… but now he felt guilty, he felt ill, and he felt numb. To even be touched by an adult, however well trusted, made him woozy. To be comforted but for all the wrong reasons made him sick. Despite the typhoon of emotions in his head, Yuuya softly and quietly hugged him back.

“I’m scared, Leone,” Yuuya murmured, too nervous to hold him tighter, “Genuinely… honestly… scared.”

_But of what?_

Patting him on the shoulder, Leone pulled away. Their eyes met.

“Alone, we Doves are nothing… but together, kid, we can change the world,” Leone told him. Yuuya smiled. What a lie it seemed like now. A mantra full of hope… Hope was for those without secrets. Without lies. 

Leone stood up and formed the shape of a bird with his hands, pressing it over his heart. Yuuya did the same. It was the unspoken symbol of the doves. A comradery they all shared. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, Leone J.B. made a solemn oath.

“With me by your side, you’ll take down this doctor… And I swear, Sakazaki… I will not let him hurt you.”


	14. Resounding Success

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy ufcking yikes
> 
> this is sin..... im so sorry
> 
> enjoy

The night was warm. The summer air was finally beginning to set in and it was no longer peacoat season. Perhaps that was for the best, after all. All Iwamine ever did was mock him for it, but it’s not as though he could simply stop wearing it. He had no other jackets with him in Japan, and until now, he would have frozen without one. He did, however, get in the habit of removing it before he entered the infirmary. He’d learned better.

As apathetic as he had been lately, Yuuya turned the knob to the infirmary door, shuffling through the door and scratching his neck. Iwamine was, as usual, poring over some papers, however this time, he also seemed to be scrawling some signatures. He also was wearing his work lab coat over his casual clothes. Odd. Smiling peacefully and with blank eyes, Yuuya closed the door behind him. The click of the latch bolt alerted Iwamine to his presence. Without looking up, he tapped his fingers on the desk.

“What is today’s date, Sakazaki?”

Yuuya checked his phone calmly, as though nothing were out of the ordinary, “July 17th, sir.”

“Mm.”

Iwamine wordlessly finished his paperwork and lifted it, tapping the stack a few times against his desk to straighten it. He leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms out, exhaling spiritlessly. Turning his head towards Yuuya, he gave him a blank and disinterested stare.

Yuuya blinked, laughing unenergetically, “Might I ask that we get this over with, sir? I have plans tomorrow and would like to get some sleep, if you’re feeling _merciful_ today.”

Iwamine raised his eyebrows the slightest bit, still giving an air of being bored beyond belief, “Oh? Marine day plans? _Do_ tell.”

Shifting his eyes back and forth, Yuuya started hesitantly, “Er, well, I’m going to visit with some friends. A party of sorts. More of a gathering, I guess… but since when are you interested in my endeavors outside of being your…” Yuuya trailed off. Iwamine smirked softly.

“My slave? Pet? Or perhaps you even meant to say “whore”?” Iwamine seemed genuinely curious.

Yuuya shook his head and smiled, “Ahaha… sure… But I reiterate… Why do you care?”

“To be frank,” Iwamine sighed, “You’re beginning to bore me. You’re not suffering enough for my liking.”

_Blunt, as always._

“Well,” Yuuya raised his eyebrows and glanced upwards, smirking slightly and shrugging, “I suppose that means that’s enough of this! Ahaha, you can move on, and we can both be on our mer...”

“Do _not_ test me, Sakazaki.”

Yuuya winced and slowly halted his speech. What little hope he had faded out with his words and his heart sank with a twinge of fear. The harsh, berating tone he had become so familiar with was painfully, humiliatingly effective at shutting him up. It seemed that, in addition to the blackmail that was already being held against him, he was beginning to become obedient due to petty fear alone.

He was pathetic. Useless. Weak. And he had dared to call himself a hero.

Uncomfortably clasping his wrist behind his back, he dipped his head in chagrin, “I’m…. I’m sorry.”

“Mm…” Iwamine stood up from his desk at last, “You certainly will be after that impertinent outburst. Now, considering your important plans tomorrow, let’s get this underway. Tonight… we are going to be experimenting.”

Yuuya tried to remain stoic, but he couldn’t help but feel a pang of dread, “Experimenting, sir? Might I ask how?”

“You need not ask,” Iwamine stated simply, fetching the bandages Yuuya had so kindly retrieved for him from off his shelf, “You will soon know… Open your mouth.”

Yuuya closed his eyes. He knew well by now that if he opened them, the shame would be almost too much to bear. Feeling nauseous already, he opened his mouth just the slightest bit. He heard Iwamine snicker softly.

“So obedient. What _happened_ to you? I’ve certainly broken you well, but why am I still unsatisfied...? Interesting.”

_But can you truly break something… that has never felt whole?_

Yuuya inhaled shakily through his open mouth and tried to ignore his words. Forcibly shoving it open more, Iwamine filled it with gauze as per tradition. It seemed he was taking things particularly slow today… was this part of the “experiment”?

“Where did your _enthusiasm_ go?” Iwamine pondered, carefully rolling the bandages around Yuuya’s head to secure the makeshift gag, “You seemed so eager to learn from me when we met… It’s a shame you didn’t find my wisdom to your liking. Truly a pity.”

Yuuya fiddled with his fingers, trying and failing to let his mind wander to other places. His hands were still behind his back, but that was out of discomfort rather than bondage… in fact, his hands weren’t even tied. The way Iwamine gagged him without even bothering to first tie his wrists was yet another testament to how absolutely subservient he was. He _knew_ that Yuuya wouldn’t–no, couldn’t–dare remove it.

“Comfortable?” Iwamine asked in faux concern, but then continued stalling with his diatribe, pacing around Yuuya in a circle, “You know, there’s a lot that even I don’t know… A lot that I… haven’t been taught yet. But you, Sakazaki… you are a prime test subject. A vast potential for knowledge. Together, we will both be… enlightened. Mm. I do find that prospect rather appealing.”

Having stopped in his tracks behind Yuuya’s back, he reached out with his left hand and with some force pushed him forward. Yuuya stumbled, unclasping his hands and holding them out for balance.

“Take off your clothes and bend over the cot.”

Unable to speak, Yuuya turned his head slightly and uttered a soft, “Hm?”

“You’re not _deaf_. Usually lab rats don’t ask questions.”

Shuddering, Yuuya stripped and slowly made his way to the cot. _The_ cot. It was the same one every time. It’s not as though Iwamine forced it to be so, and yet it always was. Perhaps this was more automatic than anything, like choosing to sit at the same desk every day even if they weren’t assigned. A sickening habituation. As though this violation, as scheduled as it was, were merely a class to sit through. All he had to do was hold out until the bell.

It seemed that Yuuya hesitated for too long. Iwamine, as impatient as usual, pressed on Yuuya’s back with a modicum of force. Although he wasn’t _really_ being moved by Iwamine’s hand, Yuuya bent over as he pushed him. It didn’t take a lot to make him comply these days. Perhaps to Iwamine that was the flair this arrangement was now lacking. 

“Good boy,” Iwamine murmured, “Now continue to behave and stay still while I get you... situated.”

However muffled, Iwamine recognized the noise Yuuya made next as… a laugh? Iwamine raised his eyebrows, “You clearly make a habit of nervous laughter, but this is… certainly different. Is this a sign of _trauma_ I’m witnessing?” He tossed the roll of bandages idly in his hands as though this were all a game. Without further words, he made quick work of securing Yuuya rather all too well to the cot. How was he… so skilled at knots? And with such an impractical material? The question briefly crossed his mind, but he was distracted by the metal leg of the cot digging slightly into his shin. He winced and shifted his position. After binding each ankle tightly to each cot leg, Iwamine moved around to the other side of the cot and tied his wrists together, then securing them to the metal headboard. By now, Yuuya was sufficiently immobilized, uncomfortable, and humiliated. Admiring his handiwork, Iwamine dragged his finger across Yuuya’s spine, making his way back to his rear.

“Well,” Iwamine chuckled, “You don’t have scoliosis. Doesn’t that put you at ease?”

With the painful knowledge that it would only please Iwamine more, Yuuya shifted and struggled against his bonds. He was nervous. Terrified, actually. His entire body trembled, but his conscious muscles froze when out of nowhere, there was cold metal on his back. As an agent, however unseasoned, he knew the feeling all too well. Iwamine Shuu had the flat side of a knife pressed to the small of his back. Yuuya must have uttered some sort of panicked squeak, because Iwamine scoffed in amusement.

“What? Afraid I’ll hurt you? _Why_ would I ever do that. You’re a _precious_ sample, and after all… It’s all about love…” Iwamine whispered bitterly, almost seeming to tense up slightly at the words. But after what seemed like a meaningless hesitation, he tilted the knife and cut a thin, meticulous, and shallow line from where he was resting it to the nape of his neck, tracing along his spine _just_ close enough. Yuuya arched his back instinctively to escape the pain, but what could he possibly do but let it happen? It was not enough pain to make him scream, no, he was better than that. He’d soldiered through far worse physical pain in training camp. But the sick, twisted intimacy… the man behind the knife. That seemed to sting more than the wound.

Iwamine took a moment to let blood seep to the surface, leaving Yuuya to listen to a numbingly familiar jingle and zip. Yuuya squeezed his eyes shut. In such a vulnerable state, his only choice was to accept that anything could happen to him. If he expected the worst, nothing could hurt him… right?

Iwamine pressed the head of his dick to Yuuya’s ass.

_Right._

“You seem tense. I’d loosen up, were I you…” He dug his knife, deeper this time, into his poor subject’s left shoulder blade, “I assure you it hurts more if you’re nervous.”

Wincing at the sharp pain in his shoulder, Yuuya tried to pretend he meant the knife. Softly and plaintively, Yuuya moaned what could have possibly been trying to be a word… Iwamine paused and leaned closer to Yuuya’s head as though he could hear him better that way, “Pardon?”

Yuuya said nothing more and Iwamine did not seem to care enough to torment him further… not in that regard. For once, he was glad he was gagged. Of his own accord–unprompted, unthreatened–Yuuya had begged, “Please.” It was for the best that Iwamine didn’t hear that. He wasn’t sure how he would cope. He wasn’t sure how much _longer_ he could cope.

His carefully woven threads were beginning to unravel, after all. It was only a matter of time until he cracked like an egg in Iwamine’s fist.

“Shhh…” Iwamine breathed into Yuuya’s ear and pulled the knife swiftly out of his flesh, sending shivers down his spine as his pathetic whimpers faded into groans, “I’m just taking a sample or two… What? You’ve never had blood drawn?”

It did seem that he’d pulled a syringe out of his coat pocket, piercing the skin of his neck; deliberately nowhere near where he’d formerly cut. The sensation of blood being drawn was less painful than that of being carved, but it only put Yuuya more on edge to have Iwamine’s needle so close to a major artery. When the syringe was full, Iwamine deposited it into a jar and laughed softly, dragging his hands across Yuuya’s back, smearing the blood as he did so, “I’m somewhat occupied at the moment, so I’ll deal with the blood tests later. You should be thanking me for waiting this long to take my samples… blood samples, at least. I _cared_ enough to give you some... time.”

Unexpectedly and without hesitation, he plunged the knife into Yuuya’s other shoulder, evoking a shocked and pained–albeit muffled–scream. Iwamine cast his eyes away from the damage he was doing, letting his hand slowly move on its own. Instead, he watched Yuuya’s bound wrists with amusement in his eyes. What a quaint struggle. Fascinating how human instinct is to attempt, however futily, to escape. After making a few more absentminded gashes and watching Yuuya’s pathetic squirming, Iwamine sighed as though bored and lifted his knife. He wiped the blood off on his lab coat and stuck it in his pocket.

“Shall we proceed to the task at hand? I find we’ll _both_ enjoy this next part more.”

Yuuya groaned and shook his head. Iwamine snickered coldly, “Would you rather I continue tearing your thin, vulnerable skin to shreds? By all means, tell me if you’d prefer that. I’d certainly be willing to run more tests on this subject…” He reached for his knife, but Yuuya whined softly. It seemed that even he didn’t know the answer. He did not want to decide his own fate. He just wanted to disappear.

Iwamine shrugged, “Suit yourself, I suppose. I guess a pushover like yourself _would_ want me to make the executive decision. Your indifference has been insightful.” 

Yuuya squeezed his eyes shut and whined as Iwamine, with no further stalling, began slowly easing his dick into Yuuya’s ass. Immediately, Yuuya tensed even more than he had been and Iwamine rolled his eyes, “Didn’t I tell you to loosen up? You’re rather bad at taking orders, even when they’re for your sake.”

Yuuya whimpered. Bad at taking orders? Over something they both knew he couldn’t control? _That’s_ what he was hitting him with now? After all the compliance he’d done to get himself into this situation? If _this_ was being bad…

_Then what the fuck is being good?_

Shrugging, Iwamine pushed in a little more, reveling in the melody that was Yuuya’s cries of pain, “But I shan’t complain. The tighter you are, the worse it is for you, and the better it is for me… are you perhaps _trying_ to please me at your expense? How cute.”

Iwamine gripped Yuuya by the hair and thrusted into him. And again. And again. Every time, Yuuya’s groans grew more agonized. Perhaps if Iwamine had been courteous enough to use lubricant this would not have been quite as miserable, but he was a connoisseur of pain, and Yuuya was a prime specimen to observe. 

The poor boy had been though a lot these last few months, yet he’d kept his distress locked away before today. There was hardly any hiding it anymore. But he could try. His hands curled into fists and his legs remained tense, digging into the bed frame. Scattered open wounds still stung and bled, dripping crimson onto the white sheet below him. The squeaking of the metal cot as Iwamine thrusted in and out of him almost drowned out his pathetic, muffled screams. All the while, Iwamine was smiling maniacally.

“Mm… This is far more interesting than what we were doing before, no..?” He paused his words and his thrusts as though expecting an answer. Needless to say, Yuuya had no response. “Hohoho… You need not answer me. I know what you would say.”

Yuuya’s whines cut off into screams as Iwamine resumed his actions. His mind whirled. He’d thought this before when times got tough–and had been proven wrong–but even now he tried to assure himself; how could things possibly get worse? He was helpless. He was hopeless. His back hurt. His jaw hurt. His ass hurt.

Everything hurt.

And it wasn’t until Iwamine abruptly halted that even Yuuya noticed.

He was crying.

“My, oh my… What’s this we have here?”

Yuuya never cried. Not in front of anyone.

“Am I _hurting_ you?”

Never.

Pulling his length out of Yuuya, Iwamine observed as he trembled and sobbed. He was pale, anemic and shivering. After what Iwamine had done, blood stained more than just his back. The bandages stuffed in his mouth were soaked with saliva… and only now, they began to absorb his tears. Frankly, Iwamine was impressed with himself. He had turned this upbeat child into the very essence of subservience.

And he hadn’t even needed assistance.

Most certainly, _he_ would be proud.

“Hold still for a moment… I doubt that will be hard.”

Iwamine tucked his dick aside and meandered over to his desk as though there weren’t a bleeding, traumatised teenager tied to his cot. Calmly, he unlocked a drawer and fetched a test tube from within. Popping out the cork, he walked back over to Yuuya and pressed the tube to his upper cheek. Yuuya shut his eyes tighter, but that only squeezed out more tears–directly into the glass.

“What an exciting turn of events. To think I could collect both blood samples and tears from the same experiment…” Iwamine pulled the tube away and closed it, slipping it into his breast pocket, “Even I couldn’t have hypothesized this… snivelling display. I wonder how long I can make it last.”

Without further ado, he entered Yuuya again, this time also drawing the knife out of his pocket and slicing his flesh as he worked. The blood. The bright, beautiful red. It only pleased Iwamine more.

Yuuya barely felt human. In fact, he barely felt alive. It seemed that–in the moment–crying out in agony was all he knew. When would the tears stop? When would the pain stop? When would _all_ of this stop?

Yuuya knew, though. He knew that he would carry the weight of his sins with him until the grave. And the weight, it seemed, was too much for him to handle dry-faced. It was too much for him to handle with any shred of dignity at all.

For some time, Iwamine continued to rhythmically violate him, stopping occasionally to catch his breath. Although he acted with purpose, it seemed he grew fatigued rather quickly in anything he did. This, however, was only worse for Yuuya. The longer it took Iwamine to recover between takes, the more time the process would take overall. Yuuya just wanted to go home. He would bandage up his wounds. He would smile in the mirror. He would hold himself close and take deep, heavy breaths.

And the next day, he would continue as if nothing had happened.

Eventually, Iwamine seemed to be getting closer. Yuuya’s tears had dried into a thin film. His mouth was parched, his body ached, and he barely did more than whimper at every thrust. At long last, Iwamine gasped and blew his load into him, slowing to a stop and breathing heavily. Yuuya’s mind was reeling. Was it over? Was he free? 

Iwamine pulled out of him and smiled. Yuuya wiggled impatiently, wincing as his own movements irritated his wounds. Never had he felt so useless as when he was silently begging to be untied. Iwamine snickered as he pulled his cock back into his pants, “What a truly piteous mess you’ve become… Would you like me to untie you?”

Yuuya, predictably, only whimpered. With a sick, twisted smile, Iwamine moved around to Yuuya’s head and cradled it in his arms, “Is that a no I heard? Are you that eager to continue?” The distressed cry that followed was music to Iwamine’s ears, “Oh, _sorry_. I must have misheard you.”

Iwamine simply untied his wrists, leaving him to free his legs and remove his gag on his own. His work here was done, after all. He had his samples. Had his fun. There was no reason for him to stick around. Leaving his bleeding, violated victim to fend for himself, Iwamine took off his now bloodstained lab coat and folded it up neatly. He adjusted his glasses and walked to the door as Yuuya tried to free himself with shaking hands.

“Enjoy your plans tomorrow, Sakazaki Yuuya,” Iwamine said, staring at Yuuya expectantly. Those lifeless, dull blue eyes remained cast in any direction but his. He was ashamed beyond looking up. Perfect. 

Iwamine smiled triumphantly and finished as he turned the doorknob, “This experiment… has been a resounding success.”


	15. Panic

Monday morning. The sun was shining bright in the warm July sky, casting beams of joy and hope onto to faces of all who stepped outside. Birds sang and fluttered about, carelessly going about their day. Yuuya stared out his window at the flock of pigeons that had gathered on the sidewalk, pecking at crumbs on the ground. He sighed longingly. If only he were a pigeon. Perhaps then, he wouldn’t dwell so much on the terrible, terrible things that happened to him. Perhaps then, he would be happy.

But Yuuya Sakazaki was no mindless pigeon, no simple dove… he was a man, who had most certainly, and with no hesitation to use the terminology, been raped. The thought of the word made him wince. His trauma had a label. His suffering, a name. He was nothing special for having gone through what he had. Sure, he was being blackmailed, and sure, he was being abused… but certainly many others had experienced far worse. And who was he to complain, when surely this could have been avoided?

After all...

_I was not expecting you to break so quickly. You’re far weaker than I thought you would be._

He lacked resolve.

Yuuya pulled the curtains shut and closed his eyes, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. It felt warm. Maybe he could use a fever as an excuse to not go out today… but he had promised. He, Nitori, Tatsuya and Kamiya were going to hang out at Tatsuya’s place to play some video games. What a wonderful way to spend a holiday. Or it would be, were Yuuya not feeling absolutely terrible–physically and mentally.

The cuts Iwamine had left on his back had closed overnight, but the skin was still weak. Until the scar tissue formed more securely, he’d need to take it a bit easy. The night before, before he left the infirmary, he’d shakily wrapped his torso in bandages so he wouldn’t bleed out or make it worse. Everything had hurt as he untied his own bonds. Everything had hurt as he dressed himself. Everything had hurt as he left the infirmary, expression blank… but ready to be replaced with a smile on the off chance he ran into someone he knew.

Even today, after a nearly sleepless night, Yuuya felt as though his body were going to fall apart. He was a carefully constructed robot of lies and smiles, and god forbid the nuts and bolts grew loose. Perhaps it would be best for him to stay home today… A machine must be well oiled to function at it’s best, after all.

His cell phone vibrated on his side table. Groaning at the notion of having to move again, he stepped away from the window and slowly, painfully made it across the room.

> **Tatsuya Yasuke - 85.07.18 | 2:24**  
>  hey buddy. ur comin right? it aint a party w/o u, dude.  
> 

Yuuya laughed softly, squeezing his fingers a bit tighter around his phone. Was his facade truly that convincing that he was the life of any party? Ah well… It was for the best that way. With a sigh, he decided… he would go to the party. He would be absolutely miserable, but maybe it would give him a chance to ignore everything that had gone on...

If someone asked why he winced when he walked, he would lie. If someone asked why he looked like he’d been crying, he would lie. If someone asked, _‘Sakazaki Yuuya, are you alright...’_ he would tell them, with a laugh...

> **Sakazaki Yuuya - 85.07.18 | 2:29**  
>  Of course, _mon amie!_  
> 

After a short pause, he typed and sent another message.

> **Sakazaki Yuuya - 85.07.18 | 2:30**  
>  I shall see you there!  
> 

Tossing his phone on his bed, Yuuya laughed nervously, holding his arms around himself. He should take the time before the party to relax and calm down. What happened the night before was not going to change, but he could at least try to let it take the back burner.

He sat down carefully on his bed and grunted, instead opting to lay on his side. No matter how hard he tried to forget, the physical damage Iwamine had inflicted on him would linger and remind him. Clenching his teeth, Yuuya attempted not to cry again… but what was the use? The tears escaped him before he could stop them. The memories haunted him. Iwamine’s sickening touch… His mocking sneer… Such a simple violation, yet so powerful. So destructive. 

In... and out. In... and out.

Yuuya took a deep, shaky breath and wiped away his tears, gritting his teeth. He needed to pull himself together. There was no turning back from the plans he’d made, and he’d dealt with this before after all. Sure, it was a little worse this time, but Sakazaki Yuuya could handle anything. If it could be buried, it would be six feet under by the time he got to Tatsuya’s door. And this? Like anything else, it could be buried.

All he had to do was dig deeper.

* * *

A few short hours later, it was as though nothing at all had happened.

“Kamiya, your turn. Nito fucking wins again.”

Tatsuya groaned and tossed his Xbox controller across the room into an unprepared Kamiya’s chest. He gasped and fumbled to grab it, scowling in Tatsuya’s direction, “Asshole.”

“Pfft. Yup, that’s me.”

“Pick a character, Kamiya-kun,” Nitori said softly, having already selected his own.

“He’s gonna kick your ass no matter what so don’t put too much thought into it.”

“Sh- Shut up Tatsu… Hmm, who should I play as?” Kamiya mumbled absently, twirling the joystick around the character select menu, “Uh… Um. I can’t decide. Sakazaki, you pick.”

Yuuya, who was leaning against the right arm of the couch, blinked at his name. Was he being spoken to or merely mentioned? It took him a moment to realize. He’d been spacing out for a moment, distracted by the sting of the wounds on his back, but Kamiya’s voice brought him back to the moment. It was best for him to stay there, after all, “Pardon?”

“Pick my character.”

“Can’t you decide, mon amie? No man likes being monopolized. Choose for yourself.”

Kamiya seemed slightly flustered, but averted his eyes, “I’m _asking_ you to choose. It’s not controlling if I’m asking.”

“ _Why_ is this such an issue?” Tatsuya whined, twirling a vape pen he seemed to have pulled out of nowhere, “Just fucking pick. Jesus, no one listens to me.”

Kamiya seemed genuinely appalled, “Don’t _say_ that Tatsuya. You can’t say the Lord’s name in vain.” Tatsuya rolled his eyes, blowing a cloud of vapor into Kamiya’s face.

Yuuya shrugged, “Uh… Anyway. Fair enough, I suppose. Hm, let’s see... “ He scanned the extensive list of characters and–with no real attention to their stats or skills–chose one that appealed to him, “Hmm… How about Abel?”

Nodding, Kamiya pressed ‘A’, “Okay.”

Needless to say, the round was won by Nitori. Yuuya faced him next. The three less skilled boys spent the next hour or so rotating in that order and making absolutely no progress. Nitori had a faint but noticeable smile on his face the whole while. It was nice to be the challenging opponent, after all. Tatsuya was beginning to get frustrated, vaping quite frequently and googling guides on GameFAQs. Kamiya latched onto Tatsuya’s complaining, and Yuuya remained a neutral party. It was nice. It seemed that, at least for a while, Yuuya could leave his problems behind him.

“Yo Sakazaki, I’ve been wondering by the way,” Tatsuya interjected as Yuuya and Nitori finished their round, “Why’ve you just been leaning there? Aren’t you gonna sit? Maybe it’d up your game, because no offense, but you fucking suck.”

Yuuya’s face paled. Even the _idea_ of sitting made him wince. Smiling sheepishly, and ignoring the insult, he laughed, “Ahaha, I’m fine, honestly. If I sit around too much, I’ll get lazy, no? I must retain my _magnifique physique!_ ”

Tatsuya stared at him, “How’s standing there going to help? And don’t you hit the gym?”

“...I do, yes.”

“Then what the fuck are you doing, dude? Sit down.”

“...No, thank you.”

“What’s the problem, Sakazaki?” Kamiya asked innocently, “Are you allergic to dogs, because I am too, but don’t worry! Mrs. Tatsuya always vacuums the couches before I come over.”

Yuuya’s mind whirled slightly, but he snapped himself out of it, “O- Oh, she does? That’s fine then… thank you.” With no way to talk his way out of this, he walked around to the other side of the couch and slowly sat himself down. Tatsuya furrowed his brow as Yuuya handed him the controller.

“You sure you’re alright, buddy? You look like you’re in pain.”

“Of course, _mon amie_ ,” Yuuya assured him with a toothy grin, “I just slept funny last night, is all. My back is a little stiff.”

Tatsuya shrugged, locking his phone after he finished scanning the guide he had open. Seemed genuine enough. Quickly selecting a character like he’d planned it ahead of time, Tatsuya smirked, “Okay Nitori, I’ve got this in the bag this time. Prepare to get fucking _raped_.”

The word seemed to drop like a bomb.

Yuuya tensed slightly and his eyes seemed blank. Yet again with these labels. Rape. It was a terrible, terrible reality for him, but to Tatsuya, it was simply a word. It was a suffocating blackmail, a hardship to endure, but to Tatsuya, it was a sign of weakness. To Tatsuya, it was a sign of defeat.

“Y- Yeah…” Yuuya mumbled, suddenly beyond fascinated with the floor. In a flash, his senses seemed particularly heightened. Like every pain inflicted on him the night before was fresh and new, piercing at him from the inside. For a moment, he swore he could hear the doctor’s voice. _So obedient. What_ happened _to you?_

It seemed that the match had begun, but the game’s sound effects only echoed in his ears. Had someone spoken? It sounded like Kamiya, perhaps, but everything was a blur. Yuuya lifted a trembling hand into his line of sight and stared at it. What good had these hands ever done? Who was he to call himself a hero when he couldn’t save himself?

Blinking, Yuuya attempted to ground himself in the moment, plastering the fakest smile he could manage on his face. He’d been told once, after all, that if you smile enough, it can make you feel better… it had never worked, of course, but he had no other options when it seemed even his own wits were out of reach.

“Sakazaki, are you okay?”

Feeling as though the world were in slow motion, Yuuya turned his head towards the sound of the voice. It was in fact Kamiya’s. He hesitated slightly too long before replying, “Uh, what? Did you say something?”

Kamiya frowned and furrowed his brow, reaching out to feel Yuuya’s forehead. Yuuya recoiled at the touch and Kamiya’s eyes grew wide, “Whoa, sorry… I- I didn’t think… Sorry. I thought you had a fever, maybe, so I.”

“It’s fine,” Yuuya mumbled with a smile, “It’s fine. It’s fine, I-”

Before Yuuya was forced to fumble for a response, a loud noise jolted into his frazzled brain like a lightning bolt.

“Mother _fuck_ of a cocksucker!” Tatsuya screamed, bearing a wild-looking grin, “I did it! I _fucking_ did it!” 

Yuuya winced at the sudden change in volume, but lifted his head in the vague direction of the T.V. Did what? He couldn’t say he cared, but after a moment, his eyes focused on the screen. Tatsuya’s character appeared to be the victor.

“I hate to rain on your parade, Tatsu, but,” Kamiya began hesitantly, “It’s Sakazaki, I think he might be sick.”

Yuuya shook his head vigorously, but was he denying the claim or his problems?

_Non, non._

He wasn’t sure if he’d said the words out loud.

Tatsuya rolled his eyes, “Come _on_ guys, I finally kick this madman’s ass and this is the thanks I get?”

“Tatsuya,” Kamiya started solemnly, looking him dead in the eyes, “I’m serious, okay? Sakazaki, are you _sure_ you’re alright?”

Yuuya didn’t blink, “Hm?”

“Hold on,” Tatsuya muttered, eyes having settled elsewhere, “Is _Nito_ okay?”

“Huh? Oh… oh no.” Kamiya murmured.

Suddenly, all eyes were on the gaming king who’d lost his crown. He was staring blankly at the television, arms wrapped around his knees, and seemed to be shaking slightly. It took him a moment, but soon it was clear to Yuuya as well that Nitori was not in fact okay. This development finally started to bring Yuuya back to reality. Yuuya gripped his wrist and dug his nails into his skin. _Get with it, Yuuya,_ he commanded himself, _This is no time to panic._

“Nitori-kun…” Kamiya muttered, reaching out to touch Nitori’s shoulder, but instinctively Yuuya’s hand shot out and stopped him.

“No,” Yuuya gasped, “He’s, I think he’s having a panic attack.”

His own panic attack, however, need not be mentioned.

Tatsuya stared at the wide-eyed boy with a dumbfounded expression, “What the fuck? Why?”

“Was it because of..?” Kamiya whispered, glancing at Yuuya for confirmation. Finally managing to come back to the moment, Yuuya registered the words. It seemed like Kamiya understood.

“Yeah, I think so,” he confirmed. Kamiya nodded knowingly. Suddenly, Yuuya was struck with another pang of panic. His breath caught in his throat as he considered that Kamiya would realize that Yuuya had been distraught as well. He’d realize everything. His secret would be out. Sakazaki Yuuya would be a failure.

“What am I missing?” Tatsuya asked, voice straining in confusion, “Why’s he doing that? Guys, this is freaky.”

“Tatsuya, you really need to watch your mouth, you know?!” Kamiya whined in distress. His eyes began flickering quickly between Nitori and Tatsuya, “You’re… You’re really going to mess something up one of these days…”

“Why are you turning this on _me_?” Tatsuya growled, clenching a fist and tossing the controller onto the table, “ _He’s_ the one having a freak attack!”

As they argued, Yuuya let out a breath. He realized they were completely distracted by Nitori’s behavior to even remember that he too had been acting strange. His hands still shook slightly, but he managed to swallow and ground himself in the moment. Nitori was in a bad way. He had to help him somehow.

Kamiya seemed to be getting heated. Yuuya looked at Nitori. All of the noise was only making things worse. He seemed to only be clutching himself tighter, and his soft shaking had evolved into more of a steady rocking. It was worrisome to say the least.

“You’re so… ignorant! And hurtful, Tatsuya! When will you learn-”

“P- Please,” Yuuya stammered, “Quiet down. You’re only making it worse.”

Kamiya slammed a hand over his own mouth in guilt, worry still evident on his expression. It was clear he felt genuinely distraught that he had made matters escalate. Tatsuya however, seemed more irritated than anything. He still didn’t seem to get what the matter was, and figured Nitori was just making a scene again. Yuuya, however, knew this was different. Slowly, he stood up from the couch, wincing as he did so. He walked calmly over to Nitori and crouched down so he was in his line of site.

“Nitori-kun… can you hear me?”

No answer. In fact, no reaction at all. Yuuya gulped and scratched his cheek.

“Is… Is there something I can do…?”

Radio silence. Yuuya sighed, running a still-shaky hand through his hair nervously. What was he supposed to _do_? He wasn’t trained in handling other people’s panic attacks. Only suppressing his own.

“Ayaka…”

Yuuya turned his head towards Kamiya, “Eh? Did you say something?”

“Uh, yeah… Ayaka,” Kamiya repeated, “Akagawa Ayaka. She’s a friend of his, I’m pretty sure… Whenever I see them together, he seems pretty happy. Maybe she’s someone we could call?

Akagawa? That name was familiar. The boy in the infirmary with the sprained wrist… Yuuya believed that was his name. Perhaps this Ayaka was his sister. Yuuya nodded repeatedly, “Hm. That could work. Do you have her number?”

Kamiya fumbled for his phone, “Y- Yeah, actually. I have math with her. She asks me for the homework like twice a week.”

“Call her, then,” Tatsuya said flatly, “I guess the party’s over.”

* * *

The doorbell rang in no more than ten minutes from the moment Kamiya hung up the phone. Yuuya answered it.

“ _Bonsoir_. Thank you for coming,” Yuuya greeted as he opened the door, “I’m sorry if it was a…”

The face he locked eyes with when he looked up was none other than the boy from the infirmary.

“...bother.”

Akagawa gave him a stern glare, “What are you staring at? Can I come in, or are you just going to gawk all night?”

“R- Right,” Yuuya muttered, thoroughly intimidated, “Come on in.” 

He let her in, closing the door behind her. Akagawa Yuudai–no, Akagawa Ayaka, was known throughout the school as competitive, stoic, and prone to violent outbursts, but not once had Yuuya ever heard her by that name. Or, well, heard of her as a girl. But so she was, it seemed. Perhaps, had he been less preoccupied at the time, Yuuya would have questioned how Kamiya had math with her in an all-boys school. What an odd development. Yuuya shrugged.

There were more important matters to attend to.

“Tori-chan…” Akagawa was murmuring, holding Nitori’s hands in hers, “Hey, it’s me… Yeah, I know. We’re going to go now, okay?”

Her tone of voice was soft and gentle like that of a mother’s. It seemed that her deep brown eyes held a warmth in them that could calm anyone down. She smiled gently as she spoke and Nitori seemed to, ever so slowly, unravel. Kamiya, Tatsuya and Yuuya all watched in awe. It was as though she possessed a magic power. Within a matter of minutes, Nitori was on his feet, still shaking, but his hand in hers. He didn’t speak, nor did he look up from the ground. She looked up from him and at the other boys, her tender expression melting away into her signature deadpan glare. The transition was so harsh it was startling. Kamiya even gasped.

“Thanks for calling,” Ayaka said monotonously, “We’ll be going now. Try not to do this again.”

“What did I even-” Tatsuya started, but Kamiya kicked him in the shin.

“Will do, Akagawa-san. Thanks for helping out... It was good to see you!” He told her. She rolled her eyes.

“Sure.”

She guided Nitori towards the door. Yuuya had plenty of questions for her. How had he never heard she was a girl? How _had_ Kamiya heard? What was it about Nitori that brought out that side of her? But none of them were what he _needed_ to say.

“Akagawa...san?”

Akagawa paused and looked at him, “What.”

“I’m sorry, ahaha… I- I didn’t... know, you see…” Yuuya stuttered, smiling awkwardly, “But I know now. And I won’t make the mistake again, _jeune fille_.”

Despite him being vague, she knew what he was talking about and sighed, “It’s fine. It’s whatever. Thanks, though.”

She put her hand on Nitori’s shoulder and guided him out the door without another word, letting it click shut ominously behind them. The remaining boys looked at each other, unsure of what to say. The only sound was of a clock ticking on the wall. Finally, it was Yuuya who broke the silence.

“Well, this has been quite the night,” He laughed nervously, “Perhaps it’d be best if I got going.”

“Yeah…” Kamiya muttered, pulling out his phone, “I’ll call my mom…”

“Well, goodnight then,” Tatsuya grumbled. He sighed and simply walked away, yanking his hair out of his ponytail, “Hope I don’t _ruin_ the next party. Have fucking fun, guys. I’m going to go get high.”

Slamming the hallway door, he left the others in the dust. Kamiya sighed and fiddled with the collar of his sweater, “I’ll have to talk to him tomorrow… But, Nitori, man… I’m worried about him. What happened to him that made him act like that?”

Finally, it hit Yuuya like a ten ton anvil. _Something_ must have occurred to make Nitori react the way he did.

Skin tingling, Yuuya simply shrugged, “I don’t know, _mon amie_. I just don’t know.”

But he did. All too well.


	16. Reason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can see the writing on the wall,  
> I can't ignore this war,  
> At the end of it all,  
> [Who am I living for?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DFltR8dHZjg)

Yuuya wanted to wash everything away.

It was possibly four in the morning. Maybe five. Yuuya didn’t know, but he was crouching on the floor in his shower, arms clutching his torso as he let the water douse out all his shame. Again. This may have been his fourth shower tonight. He faced the shower head and kept his eyes squeezed shut, feeling the liquid drip down his face. He knew it was a mixture of water and tears, but after the party that day, he couldn’t even try to hold them inside. The droplets that dribbled down his back stung his wounds, but he didn’t care. In fact, the pain kept him grounded. Alone, he had no need to hide. It was best while no one was around for him to embrace the pain and accept the hurt that came to him.

He couldn’t deny the truth; this was only the beginning.

Despite having dwelled on the topic all night, thinking again of what else he’d have to endure made him cry out only to himself. He clenched his teeth and squeezed himself harder. His own was the only touch he could stand. Iwamine had tainted him, made him feel disgusting, but no amount of showers seemed to make him feel clean. Even now, having been sat under the water for upwards of half an hour four times that night, he felt dirty. Oh so dirty.

Another thought that Yuuya hadn’t been able to shake since the party was that of Nitori. Iwamine had gotten ahold of him. Of this, Yuuya was certain. How long had that been going on? And if Nitori had nothing to be blackmailed with, how long would it be until it resulted in his death? The thought made him nauseous, but what could he do? He was pathetic and helpless. How could he possibly save his friend?

Pitifully and quietly, Yuuya sighed under the spray, spitting out the mouthful of water he ended up with. What was the use in trying to cleanse? The feeling wouldn’t go away.

Yuuya rose painstakingly on wobbly legs, shutting off the water that had long since run cold. He stared at the drips that remained, falling slowly each time with a faint plop, catching a few in his hand. With the water now off, anyone could clearly discern the fact that he was crying. What would Iwamine think of him right now? Would he laugh? Would he be _disappointed_?

Or would he simply bottle more of his tears?

Yuuya scoffed at the thought and pushed open the shower door, taking care not to be too rough when he dried himself off. Unfortunately, his eyes locked with themselves in the mirror and he realized how truly pathetic he looked. It sent a shiver down his spine and he let out another sob. Grimacing and looking away, he wrapped the towel around his waist and left the room.

The first thing he saw was his phone, which he hadn’t checked in hours, flash on his nightstand.

> [ 12 new messages ]

He sighed and shut it off. He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to speak to anyone. Well… he supposed that was a lie. There was one person above all that he would do anything to see right now, no matter how he might act in response.

Without thinking, or even putting on a shirt, Yuuya walked over to his desk and flicked on the light. He drew a piece of stationery from his drawer and slapped it on the table. For a few moments, he only stared at it. What would he even say? The likelihood of it ever reaching Sakuya’s hands was slim to none. The likelihood of it ever being _read_ was even slimmer. Despite this–no, because of this–Yuuya knew he had to write this letter. 

If it was never to be read, he could send it away. He needed to get his thoughts out.

Shakily, he started.

> Dearest Sakuya,
> 
> Words cannot even explain how much I miss you. I know what you’d tell me; that you never wanted anything to do with me, but what can I say? I’m your loving brother, after all. I’d do anything to prove that to you.

He stared blankly at the last sentence. How could he possibly say that when everything that plagued him, every trial he faced in the infirmary, was all to _hide_ the fact that they were full brothers? All to protect him. The reality was that the last thing he wanted was to _prove_ anything to him. Frustrated, Yuuya crumpled up the paper and tossed it across the room. He slumped down in resignation, wincing as his back scraped against the chair. What was the use? He was falling apart. Why not just let it happen? If someone found out what Iwamine did to him, so be it… he’d already been ripped of all his pride.

As he somberly and absently fiddled with his pen, a thought occurred to him. If he fell apart, Sakuya would fall right down with him. Suddenly, his heart seemed to seize up. What had he even been thinking? Complying with Iwamine may have been the deal, but that didn’t mean it was the only complication. If someone, if _anyone_ were to find out about what happened on Sunday nights, Iwamine’s “experiment” would be compromised. Who was Yuuya to assume he wouldn’t simply phone Le Bel right then and there? He laughed bitterly at his own oversight.

If he wanted to truly keep his dear brother alive, he would have to power through this for as long as it would take. Yuuya furrowed his brow in a newfound determination, searching for another piece of paper. If he couldn’t do it himself, Sakuya would be the force that kept him going. His problems could all be locked away if it meant that Sakuya would be safe. His love for his brother held a power unlike nothing else, and it was that power that would get him through his plight.

Still strained, but with renewed vigor, Yuuya picked up his pen once again.

> Dearest Sakuya,
> 
> It’s been a long time since my last letter, and as such, even longer since we have last spoken. How have you been? Let me preface this letter by stating it outright; I know you will not read this. I wish desperately that you would, but as with all my letters prior, I understand that you likely won’t even receive it. I reiterate; I wish you would. I could certainly use it right now. I miss you. I miss you so much, brother.

Yuuya stopped and stared at the paper. He knew he had to vent somehow, but on the off chance someone _did_ read the letter, he knew it needed to be vague. After tapping his pen in thought for a few minutes, he continued.

> There is a lot going on in my life as of lately, Sakuya. Unspeakable things are occurring all around me, and there’s not a single thing I can do about it. I’m sure, as future head of the family, you’re familiar with the strain of responsibility, the pressure to live up to expectations. I’ve taken someone under my wing, and I feel like I’ve done a terrible job already. What do you do, Sakuya? How do you make the tension... tolerable? Ha… sorry. I’m getting ahead of myself. What point is there in asking questions that won’t be answered? 
> 
> Wait… _merde_. I did it again.
> 
> My issues aside, I hope Mother is well. I miss her almost as much as I miss you, Sakuya. And you’re in school, right? You’d better study hard! But I don’t have to tell you that twice. You’ve always had an impeccable work ethic… that is, when your reputation is at stake, haha! Not that I blame you, of course! I’m sure I’d feel the same way, if I had any worth to the world. Oh my, we’ve gotten a bit dark now, _non_? Perhaps we should focus on lighter topics…

Yuuya hesitated. There were hundreds of things he could talk about in that light. He could focus on his petty school life, or his friends, or even news or politics. He could ask more about Sakuya or Mother… he could even, as he often did, throw in vague regards to Father. Despite the variety in options, everything in him told him it would be useless now to simply dwaddle on the innocent things. He had “gotten a bit dark”, yet… so had his world. Taking a deep breath, Yuuya rubbed his forehead. Exhaustion was beginning to catch up with him.

> But Sakuya, I’m not sure I have a lighter topic. The truth of the matter is… I’m terrified. Every day, it’s getting harder and harder to hold myself together. I know you don’t care in the slightest. I know you wouldn’t want to hear it… but I need you, Sakuya. I need you to support me, okay? And if you won’t do it consciously, I’ll still let you be my guide. Even if you didn’t care to even acknowledge me, you still might ask why I cling so desperately to even the idea of your support. The answer to that? Because, my dear brother, all of this is for you. I’d do anything to keep you safe and happy. Anything at all.
> 
> And I have.

Yuuya spaced out for a few moments. His mind was whirling and he was unsure for how much longer he could stay awake.

> Farewell, then. I don’t have much more to say. Please be well, and tell Mother I send my regards. As for Father… thank him. Thank him for teaching me well that with my tainted blood, I live a foolish life. It surely makes it easier to play the role I’ve been given.
> 
> Adieu, Sakuya  
>  I hope to see you again.

Upon finishing the letter, Yuuya put down his pen and dragged his hands down his face. He was tired. Everything hurt. However, he had put his thoughts onto paper, and he’d contacted his brother again. Perhaps, because of this, he would rest easier tonight… He chuckled at the thought. Of course he wouldn’t, but he could at least remind himself of why he was tolerating this. The reason he went through it all.

Dizzy from exhaustion, he wearily made his way to his bed and plopped down on it belly-first. As he attempted to drift into sleep, Yuuya thought about all that had happened to him. Since starting the school year, he’d been blackmailed, raped and tortured, all by the same twisted man… Nitori Naoki likely had experienced something horrible as well. So much had happened within the first term, and more was inevitably yet to come.

Right as he felt he was about to panic again, he clenched his fist and remembered what he needed to move on. Sakuya. This was all for Sakuya.

And if for no other reason, it was for him that Sakazaki Yuuya would survive.

# End: First Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how I feel about how this turned out, as the final chapter in Part 1... It's weird to think that Part 1 is over, honestly... I've come so far with this fic and yet there's only going to be more. Despite me not being 100% content with it, I hope you like the Part 1 finale... maybe I'll edit it at some point! For now, enjoy!


	17. Fifty-Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am gonna try and write tons of this thing for nano, so yea
> 
> more exists even though i'm busy as heck
> 
> enjoy!!

# Begin: Second Year

Nothing changed.

Calendar pages turned, and every Sunday, like clockwork, Sakazaki Yuuya had plans. They were no kind of ideal plans–in fact they brought him to ruins every time without fail–but they were an all-too-sobering constant in his life. A recurring, gut-wrenching trauma. Time and time again. It never felt better, it never felt worse. His meetings with the doctor only became more familiar. Easier to tolerate. Easier to ignore when his school week began. To shove away into a drawer in his mind.

Yuuya had been repressing so much, in fact, that his second high school year hit him like a train on a track.

“Can you believe it’s been a whole year?” Kamiya mused. The regular crew of Yuuya and his three somewhat awkward friends were piled around a table in the St. Pigeonations courtyard after a long first day of school. Kamiya leaned his face dreamily on his hand while Tatsuya absentmindedly fiddled with a blade of grass. Nitori remained somewhat quiet, eyes glued to some wayward, distant place.

“That’s a long time.” Tatsuya muttered sharply, seemingly still more interested in his grass than in his friend’s words, “So what?”

“Well it’s just interesting, isn’t it?” Kamiya said, “It was 365 days ago today that we all met! Or well, the three of us at least. I don’t think we met you, Nitori, until the time you sliced your head open during-”

Yuuya had zoned out. A year, huh? The day they had met, his first day of freshman year, was also the day he’d met Iwamine Shuu, the man whose mere name now caused the poor boy to flinch. He had been so full of light back then, felt so unstoppable. He thought about how many Sundays had passed since then. He’d never gotten a break. Not even once.

Fifty-two Sundays. Iwamine Shuu had taken fifty-two Sundays away from him, and he would continue to do so as long as he pleased. Yuuya shuddered. Would it be fifty-two more?

“But didn’t we determine that _he’s_ the one who _dropped_ the potato peeler?” Tatsuya was saying when Yuuya regained focus, and he was absolutely lost, “But either way, why are we focusing on how long it’s been? Can’t we just live in the moment?”

“Hmm…” Kamiya didn’t seem convinced, but he sighed, “I guess you’re right. You never know what might happen tomorrow…”

“Sakazaki aides tomorrow,” Tatsuya pointed out, “We know that much.”

Yuuya chuckled. He did indeed. Tatsuya did a better job at remembering when his work days were than he did himself. 

Ever since Leone had expressed his suspicions, he’d done a bit more snooping around after hours. Unfortunately, he often got too caught up in his own trauma to find or notice anything. He’d often stand behind Iwamine’s desk, slowly dragging his fingers across the wood, eyes fixated across the room on the cot he’d been violated on time and time again. He would wonder how much trouble he would get in if Iwamine found out he’d been breaking their most important rule. Would he be killed? Or worse?

Yuuya already knew worse.

There was a locked drawer on Iwamine’s desk that Yuuya was sure contained information he needed. Surely he could pick the lock… but he was afraid. Whatever he found in there would be incriminating, but also characterizing. Proof of what he was capable of. How could Yuuya work to prove Iwamine’s guilt of horrific crimes when the crimes he’d been the victim of were horrific enough as it was?

Leone had gotten on his case about the lack of progress a few months back.

“I just don’t get it, Sakazaki,” He had sighed, head in one hand, glass of whiskey in the other, “You told me you were okay, but why are we making no progress? It’s driving me to drink, kiddo, I swear.”

“Sir, respectfully, you always drink.”

“...Okay, fair. But c’mon, don’t you have _anything_ for me? HQ is up my ass about this.”

Sure, he had plenty. The doctor was raping him repeatedly, blackmailing him, and students he vaguely knew around the school _had_ in fact been going missing. All of the signs pointed towards his guilt. But none of it was proof. And most of it couldn’t even be said.

“Leone, I’m doing the best I can. I assure you I’m not slacking off anymore, there’s simply a lot more to this operation than we think. He’s too good at hiding things. You have to trust me, okay? I’m trying.”

It took a bit more convincing, but Leone eventually agreed to back off and let Yuuya do things at his own pace. His lies to buy him time had worked, but guilt gnawed at his heart. He was a little too good at BS for his liking.

Today, he felt it all piling on. The lies that had accumulated over the past year seemed heavy on his shoulders, and it would perhaps have a permanent effect on his stature. Could he ever stand tall knowing how many falsehoods lined the walls of his life? He worried that he was only making life worse for himself than Iwamine made it. In the end, though, what choice did he have?

He sighed softly.

“I start student council work tomorrow,” Kamiya piped up excitedly, not seeming to notice Yuuya’s less than chipper mood, “I sort of didn’t make president this year… but I think I’m definitely going to get it next year, you know? I work hard. People notice what I do.”

“Maybe I should join student council…” Nitori mumbled, clearly picking up on the idea of getting noticed. Yuuya looked at his friend fondly. The fragile kid was still alive. For that, he was thankful.

Despite the lies and guilt, Yuuya had not stopped trying to be the hero. Not long after Tatsuya’s infamous video game gathering where he’d become aware of Nitori’s sensitivity to the topic of rape, he’d appointed himself as the boy’s protective detail. It was all too easy to figure out. Being the hypochondriac he was, Nitori likely spent plenty of time in the infirmary. Certainly enough to have been… attacked. If Iwamine had touched this boy–and Yuuya was sure he had–he would never let it happen again.

It was not hard to convince him to stay away.

“Listen to me, Nitori-kun,” Yuuya had whispered feverishly one day between classes, “If you ever feel ill, or get hurt, do _not_ go to the infirmary, okay? You cannot trust the doctor. Come to me. I know enough to take care of you.”

Nitori’s eyes had widened and he had paused for a moment before nodding, “I, uh… Alright Sakazaki, I trust you... You say you’ll take care of me?”

“Well, yes.”

Nitori blushed, and adjusted his bulbous glasses, “Okay, deal.”

And that was that.

There was a brief silence amongst the four friends, and for a moment, Yuuya wondered what each of them were thinking. He had plenty of secrets… what were theirs? Perhaps he would never find out, and he didn’t care. The collective silence made him feel a sense of solidarity. It was likely that they all had secrets. There was nothing inherently abnormal about his need to lie. No one shared everything. Some secrets were just darker than others.

Kamiya piped up once again, feeling particularly talkative today, “I gotta get home, but I think this year is going to be a good one… don’t you guys?”

Nitori shrugged. Kamiya stood and the rest of the group followed.

“I guess so?” Tatsuya said, stretching his arms and scratching his chest, “It is what it is.”

“I do,” Yuuya lied with a smile, “I think this year will be even better than last year, actually. I have great friends, after all.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Kamiya agreed, “That’s what I mean. Together, this year will only get better!”

But Yuuya had a feeling in his gut that things would not get better. In fact, they would only get worse. Optimism was something he’d learned the hard way was not a good outlook for him. If he’d held any hope before, it would be crushed in a moment.

As the group said farewell and dispersed, Yuuya pulled out his phone and stopped short when he saw a message from an unfamiliar number. Confused and somewhat wary, he opened it.

> **Unknown - 86.04.01 | 18:05**  
>  Meet me on Wednesday at 8 PM. Doctor’s Orders.  
> 

Yuuya forgot how to breathe.


	18. Sanctuary

His friends had dispersed, but time seemed to stand still for Yuuya.

Trembling, he repeatedly read the words that appeared on the screen. Doctor’s orders. Who else could it be?

“Why…” Yuuya whispered, furrowing his brow. It was too odd to be real, right? Wednesday? Why would Iwamine break now the careful schedule he had kept to for an entire year? Yuuya elected to ignore it for the time being. Locking his phone and putting it in his pocket, he took a deep breath and started to walk home.

Wind blew softly across the way as he walked, rustling the soft petals of the blooming cherry blossoms and causing some to fall. Sun filtered through them and danced in patterns on the ground. It was mesmerizingly beautiful, but Yuuya had trouble focusing on it. As hard as he tried to push it to the back of his brain, his thoughts kept flickering back to the unexpected veiled threat he’d just received.

What if he just didn’t show up? Perhaps the message didn’t get delivered. Bad service in a lot of parts these days. It’s not out of the question for him to just not have gotten the memo. A pit formed in Yuuya’a gut. Iwamine was smarter than that. He would know that he was lying, and nothing good could come of that.

Stopping to lean against a tree, Yuuya took a shaky breath. There was no use trying to deny it.

_Doctor’s orders._

It was a command. On Wednesday, Iwamine would have his hand on the phone to France. Yuuya had to show up.

Yuuya stared vacantly into space as sakura petals fell unnoticed through his line of sight. It was Monday. Wednesday was in two days. What would happen then? Would it be business as usual, or did he have something _special_ planned out? The uncertainty made Yuuya sick. He had grown numb to the weekly same old. The prospect of switching it up was nauseating to say the least.

How could it possibly get worse?

Slowly but surely, he meandered home. When he arrived at his apartment door, he opened it and stood in the doorway for a moment. The room was just as he’d left it, but somehow it felt less safe. If Iwamine could demand they meet outside of Sunday, who’s to say he couldn’t demand they meet outside the infirmary? His home was his sanctuary. A place to himself where he could freely feel what he kept inside all day and night. If Shuu knew his cell number, he surely knew his address. How long would it be before he tainted this safe space too?

Sighing, Yuuya collapsed on his bed, wincing slightly from the aftermath of the night before. It was difficult to get comfortable in his own bed imagining what Iwamine could do to him on it. In one desperate attempt to believe it had all been a hallucination, Yuuya dug his phone out of his pocket and opened it. The message was still his most recently received. It was as real as the scars on his back. As serious as the deal they had made.

It was too much.

“Fuck this!” Yuuya shouted at no one at all, throwing his phone to the foot of his bed, but his burst of anger quickly melted into pain. Soon enough he was crying, realizing rage wouldn’t help him. It couldn’t help him. He could get as mad as he wanted at Iwamine Shuu, but it could never erase what happened to him. What would continue to happen.

Every Sunday. Every Wednesday?

Yuuya wanted to die.

_Papa, I miss you. Would it be so bad if I joined you?_

No response. There never was.

Attempting to breathe deeply, Yuuya once again reminded himself of his reason to live. Sakuya “Le Bel” Shirogane. His dearest blood brother. Sakuya didn’t give Yuuya the light of day, but that didn’t matter to him. He _was_ the light of Yuuya’s days.

_Are you proud of me, dad? I’m protecting him for you. I know you would have wanted him to have a good life._

Yuuya reached up to his temple and brushed his finger lightly against the two hair clips he used to keep his bangs out of his face. While they were an eye-catching and unique fashion statement, they had also belonged to his mother. He wondered if she thought of him as much as he thought about her. Was she well? Did she miss him? How would _she_ react if she knew? Would she pull him into her arms and stroke his hair, assuring him as she always did that “Mama is here?” That it would all be okay?

But mama wasn’t there. It would not all be okay.

Everything sunk into him as he sunk into his covers. He needed to keep his façade up, yet all Iwamine wanted was to break it down. It was a vicious cycle. How long would it be before someone noticed? How long before anyone noticed that Yuuya was a shell of a man?

Potentially another year. Maybe more. Until he graduated. _Would_ he graduate? Would it continue even if he did? Now that he was under Iwamine’s thumb, would he ever be able to slip out? Yuuya’s face completely paled. He’d never considered that option. With a deep breath, he wrapped his arms around his chest and pushed the thought away, right where he kept the rest of them. To deny was to survive. To believe his troubles would end was to accept that it can currently continue. 

_It won’t be forever,_ he told himself, _I can handle that._

_Every Wednesday?_ he accepted, _I can handle that._

But the variables. The fact that Iwamine had switched it up only meant that he would again. The unknown aspects of any day, the potential for a new horror even he could not conjure up.

That, he was not sure he could handle.


	19. Astronomical

Inevitably, Wednesday came around. For a moment, standing outside his apartment in the evening air, it felt like a typical Sunday. A familiar sense of dread. An unwavering chilly breeze. Days were days, after all. Why should this feel any different? Yet it bothered Yuuya that he did not feel changed. This felt like routine, and that itself was always disheartening. Bitterly sighing, he forced himself off the front steps.

The moon hung high in the sky. Yuuya pondered that perhaps it was full. His mind wandered. Did Iwamine believe in effects of the moon phases? If so, maybe that was his reasoning for the sudden meeting. That almost made things worse. Yuuya had always loved the night sky. He did not want it dictating his happiness or lack thereof.

Chuckling and even forcing a smile, he shook his head. That mindset was foolish. There was no way Iwamine gave even half a shit about the moon. Yuuya was merely so used to him ruining everything he loved. Why _wouldn’t_ he take astronomy?

All too soon, he arrived at the school that doubled as his prison. It wasn’t hard to find the will to enter, but he hesitated at the frosted glass door to the infirmary. He reached out to turn the knob… but stopped. He dropped his hand back to his side and gulped. A heavy pit formed in his gut. Suddenly, things were beginning to seem different. Suddenly, it didn’t feel like Sunday.

As he had done many times before this moment, he fished his cell out of his coat pocket and opened his messaging app. Surely enough, the doctor’s message was still there. Real and daunting. Yuuya whined nearly inaudibly, like a child who didn’t want to take his medicine. How long could he delay for?

His phone buzzed in his hand, startling him into dropping it.

When he picked it up, there was a new message below the old one.

> **Unknown - 86.04.03 | 8:09**  
>  I see you, Sakazaki.  
> 

Eyes widening, he looked away from his phone and through the translucent glass. Gulping, he opened the door and stepped inside.

Iwamine leaned against his desk with an old, red flip phone in his hand. Upon Yuuya’s entrance, he smirked, bemused, and flipped the phone shut with a harsh slap. Yuuya flinched. Iwamine rolled his eyes.

“You came.”

“Did I have a choice?”

“Ha. No.”

Yuuya sighed impatiently and stared at a poster on the wall. To look at the doctor now would be too much for him, “What do you want from me?”

“You know the answer to that, Sakazaki,” Iwamine said, snapping his fingers. Once Yuuya looked at him, he beckoned him toward him with a finger, “We’ve been over this.”

Yuuya bit the inside of his cheek. They certainly had. Repeatedly. Reluctant as ever, if not moreso, he walked over to Iwamine and stopped about four feet away. Iwamine raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“Answer your own question. Or are you too dense?”

“I meant _tonight_ , sir, it’s-”

“Wednesday? Does that change the answer? Tell me what I want from you, Sakazaki.”

Yuuya paused. Despite having had to confirm this on the regular, he never got quite used to saying it. Perhaps it was too clearly a lie to ever flow quite perfectly as a script.

“...Pleasure. But I-”

“Precisely,” Iwamine cut him off again, effectively silencing him, “Now, let’s move on.”

“Doctor, please,” Yuuya begged, half out of curiosity and half out of a heavy desire to stall, “Why am I here _tonight_?”

Iwamine was beginning to get fed up, taking a threatening step towards Yuuya, who reflexively winced, but had learned better than to retreat. He squeezed his eyes shut as Iwamine gripped the side of his neck in his left hand.

“You’re here because I told you to come. Now kneel.”

Yuuya narrowed his eyes slightly. Had Iwamine really gone through all of this trouble just for an impromptu blowjob? It took him one moment too long to comply. Impatiently, Iwamine pushed him down by the neck, but it didn’t take much force. Simply a gesture to get the movement started. A reminder of who was in charge.

Obedience had become the easy option.

Not bothering with the formalities of bondage, Iwamine elected to simply shove his resigned aide’s head onto his cock. That alone surprised Yuuya. He had been expecting something abhorrently “special”, not something abnormally tolerable.

He was not complaining. His back still hurt from last time. With Iwamine, he took what mercy he could get.

Iwamine was not fond of Yuuya’s gag reflex. Whether it was emetophobia or it was simply a turn-off, Yuuya didn’t know, but ever since their earliest meetings, Iwamine had grimaced every time he took his length a little too far. Why he didn’t simply just stop skullfucking him, Yuuya also didn’t know. Clearly, he just liked to watch him suffer.

Iwamine sacrificed the smallest bit of his own _“pleasure”_ for the sake of heightening Yuuya’s pain. The irony would be amusing were it not so sad.

Having taken his sweet time, Iwamine eventually blew his load in Yuuya’s mouth. Yuuya, having become very familiar with the consequences of disobeying, swallowed it all. As he pulled away and readjusted himself, Iwamine slapped him on the cheek for good measure. Buckling his belt, he leaned down and mockingly crooned, “Wonderful performance.”

As he walked away, the doctor offhandedly added, “See you Sunday.”

Yuuya wiped off his face and gasped for breath, still somewhat reeling from lack of oxygen. No matter how many times he did it or how much worse he’d experienced, it never stopped feeling degrading. It never stopped. Even after he composed himself, he was too exhausted, humiliated, and downright confused to rise from his position. 

He had to know.

It took him a moment, but he soon processed exactly what the doctor had said. See you Sunday? What was going _on_? He knelt there and thought for a while. His head hurt. Everything kept only getting harder to understand. He couldn’t leave until he figured it out.

Iwamine had settled down at his desk and begun to read some book. He glanced in Yuuya’s direction and tilted his head slightly, as though he had not paid enough attention or cared to notice that he hadn’t left the room.

“Hohoho… Are you tired or do you just enjoy the view from on your knees?”

Yuuya merely looked towards him, taking his glasses out of his pocket and sliding them on with an ever-shaky hand. He stared at Iwamine and blinked. He wanted answers, but it seemed that the only way to get them would be to beg.

“I mean if you insist, we can go again…” Iwamine mused.

“Doctor, please…” Yuuya spoke softly, “I can’t take it anymore. Tell me. Please.”

Iwamine sighed, closing the book and placing it neatly on the desk beside him, “You really want answers, don’t you? Tch… Bothersome… Well, I do enjoy watching you plead.”

“Why did you call me here on a Wednesday? We had a deal…”

“We _have_ a deal,” Iwamine said, “Sundays. But this? This is no deal.”

Yuuya squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his temples. _What?_

“Our ‘deal’ was that I keep your secret on that one condition. But I’m certain you know now that it’s more than that. Haven’t you found yourself pondering how else you could displease me? What else you might do that would cause me to decide I might as well just give him a call…”

Yuuya’s face was white as a ghost. Iwamine knew he had struck gold.

“Can’t you tell, Sakazaki?” Iwamine laughed, standing up from his desk and walking back over to where he knelt. He tilted up Yuuya’s head and smiled patronizingly down at him, locking his eyes with those full of fear, “I’m not exaggerating when I tell you… I own you.”

The words sent a harsh shiver down Yuuya’s spine and he shut his eyes to avoid the doctor’s piercing gaze. He’d been told to his face what he already knew and attempted to ignore. This arrangement was no ‘deal’. Deals were fair.

Iwamine slowly let his fingers dribble off Yuuya’s chin, and with nothing to support it, Yuuya hung his head in shame.

“Me summoning you here today was simply my way of letting you know that you’re never safe, Sakazaki. I won’t expect you every Wednesday… but I will expect you at my beck and call. If I contact you… you are to answer. You will aide me whenever I want.”

Yuuya stared at the floor.

“Are we clear?”

“...Yes, sir.”

“Look at me.”

Yuuya couldn’t.

Iwamine shrugged, “Fine then. Now… get out of my sight.”

Slowly and full of a new kind of weight, Yuuya rose to his feet. Still averting his eyes, he made his way to the door. He reached for the knob.

“And Sakazaki?”

Yuuya stopped but did not turn around.

“You’re providing my experiment with astronomical amounts of data. I thought you would like to know.”

Without another word, Yuuya left. He left the infirmary, he left the school. He left Iwamine behind him. But he could not leave himself behind. Yuuya had to live with the knowledge that Iwamine really, truly did have control of him.

It was an astronomical burden.

And he felt astronomically helpless.


	20. Secrets

“Freshmen. Gross. Were we always that tiny?”

Accompanied by his friends, Tatsuya was leaning against the wall of the first floor hallway, watching as the first-years all made their way to lunch. He fiddled with a paper clip as he scoped them out. Kamiya crossed his arms and scowled up at him.

“ _You_ never were, Tatsuya. You’re taller than most third years.”

Quirking his eyebrow, he got bored with his paper clip and dropped it on the ground, “I guess that’s fair. But I mean, did we always look that stupid? They seem so innocent and stuff, like they don’t know Hasekura is gonna slam them with a five page essay due Thursday this afternoon. I don’t remember feeling that way.”

As Kamiya sighed and picked up Tatsuya’s paper clip, Yuuya took a look of his own at the faces passing by. They wore a variety of expressions. Some seemed nervous for the year ahead, others confident in their ability to take high school by storm. He remembered how full of hope he’d been on his first day… but it had been a few weeks since the beginning of the year. By this time last year, Yuuya was just beginning to learn how to handle the new hand he’d been dealt. He grimaced.

“Innocent, perhaps,” He mused, regaining his light smile before anyone could notice, “But I’d say at least some of them have begun to sink under the pressure of high school life. After all, didn’t we all have tons of homework within our first few weeks?”

Kamiya nodded, stuffing the paper clip in his pocket, “That’s true, Sakazaki. Just because they’re younger doesn’t mean they’re less jaded. I mean, sure, they may not know what awaits them, but your outlook is what matters. Some of them might be hopeful, but some of them probably dread the upcoming year.”

Tatsuya sighed and closed his eyes, resting his head against the wall, “I guess you’re right. I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t weird, you know? That I didn’t feel like high school was going to be the prime of my life.”

“That’s not odd,” Yuuya assured him, “High school isn’t everyone’s prime. It’s a stepping stone for your future, no? You need not treat high school like the be all end all of your life, _mon amie_. If you’re not content now, things will get better.”

Shrugging, Tatsuya stood up straight and picked up his bag from off the floor, “I ain’t trying to say I’m not content _now_. I’m just saying I didn’t have high expectations for some rose-colored high school life. Did you?”

Yuuya and Kamiya both nodded.

“Okay… Well, did you get what you were hoping for?”

They both seemed to hesitate.

“Yeah!”

“I would say so, yes.”

Tatsuya sighed, “You guys are hopeless.”

The group’s discussion faded out, leaving the crowd of passersby to be the only sound. Conversations muddled together, most likely full of gossip or complaints about the schoolwork. Yuuya couldn’t help but wonder what went on in some of their heads. Were any of them holding something in the way he was? Did anyone else have a secret they ached, craved to tell… but couldn’t?

Then, he noticed something odd in the crowd.

“ _Mon dieu…_ ” He breathed, eyes widening. Kamiya furrowed his brow.

“What is it Sakazaki?”

Yuuya pointed. No one else seemed to be phased, perhaps because they were in the same grade and were already aware. Within the swarms of boys, was a tall, athletic looking girl. Was she transgender like Akagawa was? Yuuya couldn’t be sure, but he was absolutely mesmerized. She was beautiful, marching down the hall as if she had the confidence to destroy anything in her path. Her smile was bright and determined, like she had worked hard to get where she was and knew nothing could knock her down. Yuuya was stunned. Her confidence was so real. So _potent_.

And she was gone around the corner.

He kept staring into the distance where she’d disappeared, wondering if his eyes had just been playing tricks on him. Her happiness. Her energy. He aimed to be like her. While his confidence was so forced, hers was so real. He could tell in an instant, and he envied it. He wondered if she had any secrets at all.

It took him a moment, but Kamiya realized what Yuuya was staring at.

“Ah, that’s Tosaka-san!” Kamiya told him with a smile, “You haven’t seen her around? She got accepted to the school as a part of some odd program. A scientific mission or something. I’m not too sure of the details.”

“I’d say about _ninety percent_ of the school wants in that pussy,” Tatsuya noted eloquently.

“How have I not heard of this?” Yuuya breathed, lifting up his glasses and rubbing his eyes, “She’s beautiful.”

“Aren’t you gay?” Tatsuya asked bluntly. Kamiya elbowed him with a desperate look in his eyes. _You can’t just go accusing our friends of these things!_

“I’ve told you, Tatsuya,” Yuuya said exasperatedly, “I am _bisexual_. I am _bi._ ”

“Well I’ve never seen you so much as _look_ at a girl and you’re always flirting with me so i kind of figured you were a f-”

Kamiya kicked him in the shin and Tatsuya grabbed his leg.

“Ow, _fuck_ , Kamiya!” he whined, shooting Kamiya a betrayed glare, “What the hell was that for?”

“Shut up, Tatsu,” Kamiya suggested quietly, “Just stop talking.”

“Okay, fine, whatever,” Tatsuya muttered, “Well Sakazaki, are you gonna ‘court her’ or whatever you do?”

Yuuya paused to consider this. He _had_ gone into this school with the intention of having a sweet romantic fling or two… but he couldn’t bring himself to feel motivated. His intentions to court even the boys of the school had faded into nothing, so what made a girl different at all? His heart sank. He knew he couldn’t do it. He had too much going on to even _think_ of dating.

Had Iwamine taken _that_ on purpose too?

He was in a committed relationship with suffering, or so it seemed.

“I can’t,” Yuuya said, “Normally I would leap at the opportunity to charm such a lovely lady, but unfortunately I don’t have the time.”

Tatsuya nodded, narrowing his eyes suspiciously, “Uh huh, sure.”

“You know,” Kamiya said, glancing around at the now empty hall, “We, uh, should probably get to class.”

“Woops,” Yuuya laughed, “Seems we’ve been caught up in talking for two long. See you two around, _non_?”

Kamiya smiled and nodded, “Of course, Sakazaki. I, uh, have council after school today, but tomorrow I’m free. Are you two down to maybe do some studying tomorrow in the library?”

Yuuya couldn’t help but notice a twinge of sadness in his voice at his mention of student council. Was there something going on that he didn’t know about? Maybe the people closest to him kept more secrets than he knew. After all... he was sure Nitori was hiding something.

“Sounds wonderful, _mon amie_. Shall we invite Nitori-kun as well?”

“Sure,” Kamiya said, smiling weakly, “He wasn’t in school today, but maybe he will be tomorrow.”

Yuuya’s heart skipped a beat. Nitori had been absent today? They weren’t in the same class so he hadn’t noticed. Had Iwamine somehow gotten ahold of him?

“He sure does get sick a lot. Think he’s just faking?”

Kamiya shrugged, “Maybe.”

Yuuya took a shaky breath, but shook his head. He couldn’t focus on that right now.

Tatsuya sighed, turning around abruptly and walking swiftly away. As he left, he shouted behind him, “Welp! Time to go sleep in bio! See you guys around.”

Yuuya nodded, still somewhat frazzled, “Surely. Adieu!”

“Byeeeeee Tatsuuuuu!” Kamiya called, then nodded a quick farewell to Yuuya and scampered off. Now that he was alone, Yuuya took a deep breath to compose himself. Secrets. Potential. The true confidence he lacked. There was much to ponder, much to dwell on, but at this moment, he didn’t have the time to wallow in self-pity.

He was five minutes late for aide period, after all.


	21. Numb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m a man, I’m a twisted fool  
> My hands are twisted too  
> Five fingers, two black hooves  
> I’m a man don’t spin me a lie  
> Got toes and I can smile  
> [I'm crooked but upright](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z4ifSSg1HAo)

“Are you studying enough, Yuuya?” Kamiya asked one spring day at lunch.

Yuuya had been staring vacantly out the cafeteria window, watching nothing in particular happen outside. He blinked and turned towards his friend, “Pardon?”

“Have you been studying enough?” Kamiya repeated, eyes wide with concern, “You’ve been spacing out in class a lot. I think the stress has got you down. I get it. There’s been a lot of work lately. But, do you want to come study with me after school today? I think the library’s open.”

After the events of the prior Wednesday, Yuuya had to admit he was overwhelmed. His heart skipped a beat every time he felt his cell phone buzz. What would the doctor want with him next? But it was true. His grades were starting to slip. If they continued to drop, it might catch someone’s attention other than Kamiya. That wasn’t a risk he could take.

He had grown comfortably numb, but Iwamine had thrown a wrench into the works, clearly trying to shake up the status quo. Despite the doctor’s best efforts, Yuuya knew he could not let him scrape away the calluses he’d built up. What’s an agent without his cover? What’s a broken man without his front? Either way he twisted it, it was vital that he make sure nobody could sense anything was off.

Yuuya nodded and smiled softly, “Of course I would, Kamiya-kun. I appreciate the concern… You’re right. About the stress getting to me. Hasekura really has cracked down this year, hasn’t he?”

Kamiya nodded vigorously, “Exactly! See, I knew something was wrong. Tatsuya’s hopeless, but… I don’t have council tonight and I think I could really help you get back on track.”

“I appreciate it,” Yuuya said. His friend’s offer was so kind, so genuine… he only wished it could calm any of the demons that truly haunted him. Hasekura’s exam next week? Last thing on his mind.

His phone buzzed. He froze. Kamiya raised an eyebrow.

“You alright Sakazaki?”

“Uhhh, yes,” Yuuya told him sheepishly, reaching into his school bag, “Just a shiver.”

He shakily fumbled around for his cell phone, eventually finding it and drawing it out. Kamiya continued rambling about how important it was to stay on top of his work academically. Yuuya could only focus on the contents of whatever message he’d received. He took a deep breath and flipped open his phone.

It was Tatsuya. He exhaled with relief, not even bothering to read what the message said. Suddenly, he started to feel sick. How was he supposed to live with this sort of pressure hanging over his head right now? If he expected every text to be one that filled him with dread, was there anything at all that could make him happy? If every moment of his life had the potential to be ruined by one message, what was the point of existing? He had always been able to ignore his problems. Now, they were never far enough away.

Another buzz. Another flinch. _Why_ must he be so popular?

He groaned and whined, collapsing his head onto his desk.

Kamiya frowned, “Sakazaki, I know you’re overwhelmed. But I promise, I’ll help you. Even just one session tonight will help you get back on track. You’re gonna be okay.”

One _session_ tonight was the last thing Yuuya wanted to think of, but he sighed and nodded his head, lifting it up despite every instinct in his body telling him to keep it down and never get up.

“You’re right,” he lied, sighing and fixing his hair, “I’ll meet you there after last period, okay? I think I just didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

At that, the bell rang and Kamiya nodded goodbye, “Okay Sakazaki. See you there, alright? Be sure to get better rest tonight!”

As he stood up to throw his food away, Yuuya barely had the strength to move. With dread in his heart, he checked his phone again. Simply another text from Tatsuya. Somehow, his relief didn’t manage to quell the stomach ache he’d developed just thinking about it all. He would study that afternoon with Kamiya, but would it even help at all?

It could be a distraction, and he _did_ need the help.

Struggling to stand as he lifted his heavy heart, Yuuya rose and made his way to his next class. He was in the hands of fate. What was in store for him, only Iwamine knew.

* * *

That afternoon, the two boys met in the library as planned. However, not calculated into that plan was the presence of their school’s manga club. It was a small enough crowd, but it seemed that the leader among them was a rather eccentric freshman. All of the other members circled around him in awe, mouths agape, entranced by his words. Kamiya seemed to want to start their lesson, but every time he moved to open the textbook, this loud-mouthed boy would start an odd speech of some kind.

“When the Blight Tree Rufa takes root, only their combined power is enough to defeat it,” he yelled, leaping straight from the ground onto a table. Yuuya was impressed, as the boy was rather short and it must have taken a lot of strength, “Its might is enough to murder thousands of innocent souls… but with Edel Blau still bound in ice, there was no one alive that could stop it…”

“This guy’s getting on my nerves,” Kamiya mumbled, pushing the book aside, “How is he even allowed in here? Isn’t it supposed to be quiet in the library…” Despite his complaints, even he seemed to be mesmerized by the words this strange foreign student spoke. They were wild, like fables, and yet so convincing, as though the threat of this evil “Blight Tree” were as real as their own flesh and blood.

Yuuya began to feel uneasy. Unsure why, he gulped and tapped Kamiya on the shoulder, “Do you think that we should perhaps just take this session to my apartment? I’m not sure this is the best environment for this anymore...“

“Yeah but…” Kamiya trailed off, eyes locked on the mysterious stranger. It was as if he’d been pulled into a fantasy world, completely fascinated with the odd tales of lore he spun. Yuuya shook his shoulder, but he continued to stare into space.

“Kamiya-kun!” Yuuya muttered urgently, shaking him harder, but his words were drowned out by the eccentric boy’s continuing tale.

“And he who sought to rise the Blight Tree Rufa, the dark sorcerer Wallenstein...” he cried, waving his arms around flamboyantly, “...was a force to be reckoned with. But he was not alone.”

For whatever reason, Yuuya felt chills run down his spine. _Wallenstein_. Why did that name strike such fear deep into his heart? He wanted to stand up. He wanted to run out of the room. But _why?_

And why was he frozen in place, staring at this manga-club nobody?

The boy turned his head rapidly, long dark hair swirling around him, and locked eyes with Yuuya. Despite Yuuya knowing nothing at all, the boy gave him a knowing nod.

“Wallenstein’s servant…” he started, still staring into Yuuya’s with his piercing blue eyes.

Yuuya felt like he was losing consciousness. Why couldn’t he… move?

“...The knight of Jeare. Cain Reprobus.”

Yuuya felt his breath hitch. Reality changed.

This Reprobus… Cain Reprobus… is that not who he has truly been all along?

Yuuya–no, Cain–opened his eyes.

He was no longer in the library. In fact, he felt as though he’d _never_ been in the library. Where there used to be books, there were vast walls of dark glimmering brick. The air felt cold. Constricting. It was thin and smelled of blood. Tendrils of red pulsed along the walls like veins, their faint glow the only light.

It was hard for him to perceive who he was, where he was, or why he was there. It was as though his consciousness were floating, yet there was a deep-rooted dread in his gut.

“Knightmare. Come here.”

The echoing voice came from the other side of the chamber, its source shrouded in darkness. Even so, the voice alone sent chills down his spine. It was the same one that haunted him every moment of every day.

 _Who’s Knightmare? I am Cain._ Cain willed himself to speak, but no words came. He blinked slowly. Why did he feel so… vacant?

“Tch, pesky magic…” the speaker muttered, then louder, “I _said_ , come here.”

With those words, he willed a small fire to ignite in the palm of his hand. In it’s light, the speaker’s face was visible. Were Cain (or is he Knightmare?) able to control his body, he may have turned and ran at the sight of it. Those piercing violet eyes seemed to glow with malice. Two lips twisted into their signature, cruel, sickening, smirk.

Did he always have horns?

 _I hate you,_ Cain thought, and he knew that thought to be his own. It was the first thing he’d been sure of since he opened his eyes. He started slowly moving forward, and while he couldn’t be sure why he obeyed the Dark Sorcerer’s command, it did not feel abnormal. This vacancy. This obedience. An utter lack of control. It felt familiar. It was what he had become.

“Yes, my lord.”

His voice was not his own. It was Knightmare that spoke, not Cain.

“Good boy,” Wallenstein crooned when Cain came to a stop in front of him. Those words stung Cain like a wasp, but he could do nothing but stare blankly into the cold eyes in front of him. Wallenstein grasped him by the cheeks, “You’ve served me well since I obtained you. Are you accustomed yet to your position?”

Cain stood still as a statue, eyes glazed over and expression emotionless. The voice that was not his responded, “I am fully aware of my position. I am Knightmare, and I am bound to serve the Dark Sorcerer Wallenstein.”

“Tch, we both know _that_ , my Knightmare,” Wallenstein let go of Cain’s face and sharply jabbed him in the eye. Cain merely blinked. Wallenstein sighed, “You are a... sufficient obedient slave, but would it not be so grand if I could see the fear in your eyes?”

The fear in his eyes? Knightmare did not show fear. He was merely a puppet and Wallenstein pulled the strings.

“But you see,” Wallenstein continued, clasping his hands, “The time is almost upon us. The Reckoning. The Blight Tree Rufa shall wake. Soon there will be nothing at all, and I am left only to ponder what could have been... While you serve me well as Knightmare, I wonder, were the circumstances different, what things you could have done for me as Cain.”

Were his soul not trapped so deep within the darkness, perhaps Wallenstein would have noticed his discomfort. As Cain? What could he possibly mean by that?

“You’re wondering what I mean,” Wallenstein laughed, patronizingly tapping Cain on the nose, “I can tell that much, even if you are a shell of a man. It’s simple. I am asking _you_ , Reprobus of Jeare, if you are… _used_ to your role as my slave.”

Cain opened his mouth to speak, but the magic was too strong. Even though Cain was being addressed, only Knightmare could speak.

Wallenstein laughed darkly, “You tried to answer me. How quaint. But you see, Knightmare… I think subservience comes naturally to you.” He pointed at the ground. Instinctively, Knightmare dropped to his knees.

“You sacrificed your livelihood for that pest brother of yours, but you are empty. How far would you go for him if you weren’t so… numb?”

Cain’s heart, wherever it was, felt cold. For once, he was glad that Wallenstein couldn’t see the fear in his expression. Wallenstein gripped his slave by the hair and stared down into those empty, golden eyes.

“Would you go to the ends of the Earth for me? Or for _him_? I already know my control shall drive you to kill. But what would you do by threat alone? If I broke your spell… would you _still_ fight my wars?”

Helplessly, Cain knelt silently before Wallenstein, eyes still glued to his like a lifeless doll. He’d been asked a question, but Cain couldn’t bear to think about it, and Knightmare wasn’t programmed to answer. Able only to lie in wait, anticipating what he could only assume would come next, Cain knew in his heart that Wallenstein was right.

He _was_ used to his position, and he had brought it upon himself.

“It’s food for thought, I suppose… That day may never come,” Wallenstein chuckled, tightening his grip, “But for now, you will do as you’re told.”

Yuuya jolted back to reality in a cold sweat.

The library shelves had returned. He felt around on the table’s surface, confirming that it was indeed there. His fingers trembled against the wood. He flexed them, letting the texture of the grains against his fingertips ground him where he was. His memories were faint… but wherever he had been, he could not bear to return.

He looked to his right, where Kamiya was staring wide-eyed at him. The expression on the boy’s face was concerned and somewhat wary. It was clear to Yuuya that Kamiya was not worried about his friend. He was concerned for the sanctity of his own secrets and fears. The look in his eyes screamed, ‘How much of that did you see?’

Yuuya wondered the same. Unsure how much their respective visions may have overlapped, Yuuya nervously broke their gaze. He looked back over at where this mysterious prophet boy had been preaching… but he was gone. In fact, the entire manga club had dispersed. Yuuya blinked. What he had seen… no, what he had _felt_ , had left him shaken to the core.

Kamiya broke the silence.

“Who was he? What was that? Did you…? Did I-”

“I don’t know.”

Kamiya stalled after being cut off, averting his eyes to his hands on the desk. The library was empty now. Had anyone else been affected by this… thing?

Yuuya gulped, then steeled his expression. The face he put on was that of an agent, not that of a scared little boy. He turned to Kamiya and took a deep breath.

“Let’s never speak of this again.”

Kamiya opened his mouth as though to protest, but he closed it and simply nodded meekly. Perhaps he realized it was easier to assume that neither of them saw the same thing, than to confront the potential that Yuuya may have seen the thoughts and fears he kept in the dark. It did seem, after all, that they were mainly concerned for themselves.

“Okay…”

Without another word, Yuuya stood up from the table and shoved his textbook into his bag. Scrambling to keep up, Kamiya did the same. As he slung his bag over his shoulder and walked towards the door, Yuuya spotted a book left behind on one of the tables. Kamiya jogged to his side, but froze when he saw Yuuya had stopped.

Yuuya squinted at the book’s title.

Absolute Zero: The Forbidden Epic of Fallen Angels

Yuuya inhaled sharply, grabbed the book, and stormed silently to the doorway. As he exited the room, he threw the book in the garbage can. Kamiya didn’t oppose.

“Wait, _wait_! Sakazaki!” Kamiya called, stumbling over his feet in an attempt to stop his friend before he was already down the hall. Reluctantly, Yuuya stopped.

“What is it?” He asked sharply, smiling faintly, but clearly irritated. If Kamiya was unnerved by the venom, he didn’t show it. He adjusted his backpack strap and took a deep breath before he spoke.

“Next time,” he whispered solemnly, “Let’s study at your place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 40k+ words.... cries. my baby's grown so much.


	22. Family

Yuuya wasn’t sure where to begin. 

He wasn’t even sure why he’d gone there. Why he’d raced to the school on this inconsequential weeknight to speak to his only mentor. Maybe, when he got right down to it, his only friend. He’d arrived at his door, sullen and unsure. Meek conversation was made at his arrival, but Yuuya barely knew what he wanted to say. What had brought him here so late? There was something on his mind. Well, what is it? He didn’t know.

Now, he sat on Leone’s worn futon, rubbing his hands nervously, at a complete and utter loss for words. Something about the events in the library had shaken him to the core. He’d felt he needed sanctuary, but now he wished he’d just stayed at home. He’d made his bed, however, in coming here. Now he had to lay in it.

“Talk,” Leone had insisted, albeit softly, “You can’t convince me nothing is wrong.”

It was clear. Perhaps he could hide his stress from those around him, but Leone? He was more than just a mentor to him. In his youth, he’d had his father torn away from him. On some level, Yuuya knew Leone filled that void.

He knew with all his heart that he couldn’t tell the truth, but at the very least, he needed some closure. Could he at least let Leone know he was hurting without disclosing the full extent of the pain? If anyone would get it, it was him. Even with a drink in hand, Leone was wiser than anyone else Yuuya knew.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuya mumbled, ashamed to even utter the most innocent of words, “I should have told you sooner.”

There was a part of him, fueled by the deepest most pure of his desires, that wanted to tell the full truth even now. But the logic, the fear, the most relevant of emotions, they guided him. He knew that for his sake, but most importantly Sakuya’s sake, he couldn’t tell One what was truly going on. He couldn’t let the deepest, most humiliating of his secrets come to life.

He could, however, put some of his concerns to rest.

“I said before…” Yuuya continued softly, “...that I was worried you’d send me back to France. I’m not worried anymore. You probably just should. I’m not worth it.”

Leone frowned, “Like hell you aren’t. Is something going on? I still can’t help but feel like you’re hiding something. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, agent: keeping things from me is not helping anyone.”

_But it is helping,_ Yuuya assured himself, _It’s keeping my dear brother safe._

But if Leone kept picking up on his distress, eventually everything would crumble apart. All he’d put himself through would be for nothing, and his brother’s fate would be in the cruel father’s hands. Just thinking about it, Yuuya began to tremble. Sakuya had such a privileged life. A life of splendor that Yuuya never had. To have that torn from you, out of nowhere, and to wonder what you did to deserve that… it had to be the worst feeling in the world.

Yuuya tried not to consider his own feelings. _Those_ were irrelevant.

The pain, the fear, and the humiliation were worth it. They had to be. After all, if he broke this deal, the best case scenario would be Sakuya poor and alone, disowned from his family and wondering why. He would never know why, but that was for the better. It was better than knowing it was your mongrel of a brother’s weakness that led to your downfall.

To Yuuya, that _was_ the best case scenario. Worst case, Sakuya would be dead.

“You still in there, kid?” Leone tapped Yuuya on the temple and he blinked back to reality.

“Sorry… lost in thought.”

Leone did not seem amused. He tapped his fingers thoughtfully on his whiskey glass, “Clearly. Now spill, son. I won’t take no for an answer.”

Yuuya opened his mouth.

For a split second, he considered what it would be like to truly confess.

_”The doctor rapes me, Leone. He’s raped me more times than I can count. I can’t take it any longer, Leone. I can’t. I need your help.”_

Suddenly, Leone’s arm was wrapped around his shoulder. His head hurt. He was confused.

“Oh son, don’t cry. You haven’t even said anything yet.”

Yuuya blinked away tears. Crying? So he was.

“It’s Sakuya,” he blurted, before he could be tempted to speak the truth. His breath remained heavy, his eyes wet.

_Well technically, it isn’t a lie._

Leone furrowed his brow quizzically, “What about him? Did something happen?”

“N- No…” Yuuya said softly, pressing his fingers together, trying to focus himself and stop this sudden show of emotion. He grounded himself in the soft, comforting, feeling of Leone’s fingers brushing against his shoulder, “If anything… it’s that nothing has happened.”

Leone was quiet for a moment, perhaps expecting Yuuya to elaborate further. But no more words came.

“Do you wanna explain?”

“He hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you.”

“Leone, _je t’adore_ , but you need not lie to me,” Yuuya scoffed, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes raw with the backs of his hands, “I know damn well how he feels about me. He views me as vermin. Scum. Not worth his time… and is he wrong?”

He paused, but Leone stayed quiet again. He knew Yuuya needed to find the words to continue.

“I’ve been writing to him, Leone,” Yuuya admitted, following up with a pathetic, bitter, laugh, “Every week, probably. It’s the same stuff over and over. But every time, I know he doesn’t read it. For years and years I’ve written him. And I’ve never gotten a reply.”

“You told me you stopped trying…” Leone grumbled. His tone was stern, but understanding. Maybe under different circumstances, he’d be mad that Yuuya had lied, but it was clear that the boy was in desperate need of some genuine love and support, “Why did you lie to me?”

“It’s pathetic,” Yuuya stated simply, smiling so vacantly that even Leone worried, “I’m pathetic.”

“You’re not pathetic,” Leone insisted. Perhaps his tone of voice wasn’t exactly the most soothing, but despite his gruffness, Yuuya knew that the affection was there, “My ex-wife? She was pathetic. You, son, are lost. You’re scared. And I get that. I was there once too.”

Yuuya wondered for a moment about Leone’s past. He didn’t speak much of it, in the end. In fact… did he even know that his mentor had been married until now? If he didn’t know that much, what else did he know? He had secrets, his friends had secrets… what made Leone the exception?

If something like this had happened to Leone… would he tell Yuuya?

“You couldn’t possibly understand.”

When he spoke, his voice didn’t feel like his own. They were the whiny, twisted words of a teenager who believed that his issues were unique and special. But who was he to make that assumption? He had no idea what anyone else went through. To believe he was worthy of anything, any love, any pity…

Was that what he wanted? Pity?

“I may not understand exactly,” Leone started quietly, “But I don’t have to, to know who you really are. Your experience does not define you, Sakazaki. Your brother’s opinion of you, as much as it may hurt you now, it is not going to shape your life. It doesn’t have to.”

Yuuya closed his eyes and tried not to let any more tears fall.

_Oh, but it has._

“You may never have gotten a reply from him, but you’ve never gotten a return.”

Yuuya blinked. He… did have a point there. It meant, at the very least, his letters were still reaching the Le Bel Manor. There was still a chance. Maybe someday, by some twist in fate, a broken string, Shirogane Le Bel Sakuya might hold his brother’s letter in his hands… and open it. Would he reply? Probably not. But would he read it? It could happen.

As he sighed and squeezed Yuuya’s shoulder, it was clear that Leone knew this wasn’t the full truth. Despite this, he felt no need to push him further. Yuuya had obviously already been having a rough day. Perhaps he felt here was no need to make it worse.

“You’ll be okay. You’ll make it through. You’ve fought like hell so far in your life. Whatever’s plaguing you… you’ll overcome it.”

He removed his arm from around Yuuya’s shoulder.

“Thank you, Leone…” Yuuya murmured, looking him in the eyes. They looked at each other for quite some time. There was a genuine concern in Leone’s eyes, and Yuuya knew by looking at him that he wasn’t sure he’d truly been much help. But there was only so much either of them could do. Sometimes, support was all you could give.

Sometimes, that glimmer of hope was all you needed.

Leone smiled. He took Yuuya’s hand and squeezed it.

“Any time, kid… Sorry I can’t solve all your problems for you… but I can at least be someone to lean on. That’s what I’m here for.”

“I know…” Yuuya mumbled, “I’m glad you took me under your wing, sir. It means everything to me.”

Leone chuckled softly, “I wouldn’t have it any other way, son.”

Yuuya paused for a moment, still squeezing his mentor’s hand. Right then, his troubles seemed miles away. Sure, he couldn’t tell Leone the truth, but he was there for him. Leone had faith in Yuuya to make it through whatever trials faced him, even if he didn’t know their extent. There in his presence, he felt safe. Leone was family. If he lost Sakuya for good, he would be the last family he had left. They reveled in the silence for a moment longer before Yuuya decided to speak what was on his mind.

“I like it when you call me son.”

Leone blinked, “I, uh… Well.”

“I know you might not mean it like that,” Yuuya admitted, picking up his glasses with a still faintly trembling hand, “And I know our relationship was meant to be strictly professional, but it never has been. And if I’m already spilling my guts.... I had to let you know. I do see you in a fatherly light.”

For a moment, Leone seemed unsure of what to say. He shifted somewhat nervously and scratched his stubbly chin and neck. He studied his protege carefully.

“I never really wanted kids,” Leone admitted, “I was scared shitless. To raise a child of my own… what if I fucked it up? But I got you, Sakaza- er, Yuuya. I got you. And in the end I guess I raised a kid anyway. I hope I didn’t screw you up too much.”

Yuuya laughed, trying not to burst into tears again, “I was screwed up before I met you, Leone. You kept me from falling apart.”

Leone shrugged his shoulders and smirked, “Heh, fair enough I guess.”

There was a tranquil atmosphere in the cluttered, homey closet. He hadn’t told Leone the full truth. Far from it. Yet he wondered… if Papa was alive, would he not have still lied to him as well? There with Leone, he felt briefly at peace with his life. Whatever Iwamine threw at him, no matter the pain, he would get through it not only for Sakuya… but for Leone. For his family.

“I love you, Leone,” Yuuya said softly, so faintly that even he could barely hear. But Leone was a quiet, well-listening man. He heard everything.

“I know you do, son. I love you too.”

It was late. Leone decided it would be best if Yuuya headed home. After making certain he’d recovered enough, Yuuya walked over to the door and practiced his smile in a small mirror on the wall.

“You don’t have to act like everything’s okay all the time, you know,” Leone told him, “It doesn’t do anyone any good. Least of all yourself.”

“I know. But it’s the only way I know how to live.”

Leone sighed and put one hand on Yuuya’s shoulder, the other on the doorknob, “I can’t change you, kiddo. But I can give my advice. Take it or leave it, you know what I think.”

Yuuya nodded. Leone removed his hand from his shoulder and opened the door. Taking a deep breath, Yuuya stepped across the threshold, but looked back one last time.

“Thank you again, Leone. For everything. And I’m sorry.”

“Well you should be, kid,” Leone said sternly, but there was care in his voice, “But I forgive you. Just don’t fuck around with me again. Throw yourself into your mission if you have to. But no more moping around and then acting like you’re fine.”

“Roger that, _mon amie_ ,” Yuuya laughed, nervously scratching his neck, “But you too, alright? I _must_ find out more about this ex-wife of yours…”

Leone’s eyes went wide, then he scowled, “Hey! Drop it, kid. I never should have said anything! Tch… well whatever. See you soon, okay? Don’t leave me hanging.”

“I won’t, sir. I’ll do more research on the doctor and report back to you ASAP.”

“Good. Now go home and get some rest.”

“Alright. _Adieu._ ”

As Yuuya made the walk from the school to his apartment, he did not feel quite at ease, but he did not quite feel any dread. This route was his walk of shame. A desolate path trudged week after week, defeated and feeble in the aftermath of the doctor’s wake. He knew, even though nothing had happened tonight, that within days he would be walking this route again, humiliated and exhausted. But if there was anything Sakazaki Yuuya knew, it was how to keep on going.

_You’ve fought like hell so far in your life. Whatever’s plaguing you… you’ll overcome it._

Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But eventually, it all would come to an end. For now, he had to keep his focus in sight. If he tried to distract himself with the mission, he could maybe even put an end to this himself. Iwamine could try his hardest to break him, and maybe he’d already come close… but Yuuya was still standing, and many had tried before. It was easy to get lost in his misery and his hopelessness, but for his own sake, to keep from diving headfirst into insanity, he needed to keep Leone’s words in mind.

If he could smile to convince the world he was fine, he could smile to convince himself.

After all, it was the only way he knew how to live.


	23. Purpose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I will not look back even if you fall   
> I hope your pain was worth it all   
> I will not look back even if you fall   
> [I hope your pain was worth it](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JKBe8Q3vYHk)

“I suppose we can end here for the night. Go home.”

Yuuya was tired. So tired.

There was no use for words anymore. When he left the infirmary every Sunday night, he didn’t even know what there was to say. His position was clear. His inferiority potent. He’d tried everything. There was nothing left to ask or to wonder. All there was left to do was rise shakily from whatever humiliating position, and try to compose himself.

Tonight, he felt worse than usual. There was no particular reason for his exhaustion. It’s not like the doctor had been particularly cruel. Yet as he rubbed the ligature marks on his wrists, Yuuya felt as though he could pass out right then and there. He didn’t want to walk home.

But he knew he could never stand to spend the night in a place such as this. Too many memories. He had lost too great a portion of his dignity within these infirmary walls to ever be able to sleep peacefully there. It was tainted land. A hell on Earth.

Groggily, he slid himself off the cot and onto the floor. He’d dropped his coat and glasses on a chair not too far away, if he recalled. Although his vision was perfect without glasses, he was dizzy. Defeated. He reached out and found the chair, patting around on it. He located his glasses and slid them on. Iwamine had already settled back into his desk chair, continuing to work on whatever paperwork he had as though Yuuya were not even there. However, catching sight of his victim pathetically fumbling around on the floor out of the corner of his eye, he couldn’t help but chuckle mockingly. Yuuya ignored it.

Slowly, Yuuya managed to stand. Sighing deeply, he prodded at a tender spot on the side of his neck and winced. He glanced around the room. Where was his coat? He just wanted to go home. He briefly considered leaving without it, but his keys were in his pocket, and it was still too cold out at night to go without a jacket. Reluctantly, the boy addressed the man.

“Where’s my jacket.”

It was not a question. He didn’t care enough.

“Why would I know?” Iwamine muttered, not looking up from the papers he was leafing through, “Over there maybe?” He lifted his hand and gestured very vaguely and limply. Yuuya blinked.

Within a minute, he located his jacket and slipped it on, not even bothering to button it.

“Thank you _so_ much for the help, doctor.”

“Charmed,” Iwamine said, filing away his papers but still not making eye contact, “Now leave.”

The words pierced Yuuya’s psyche. Somehow, despite the complete and utter familiarity with his situation, Iwamine’s words still managed to grate on his nerves. Commanding him to leave? He didn’t even want to _be_ here.

_You exist to serve me. When you can no longer do that, get out of my presence._

An _endearing_ notion. Yuuya attempted to push it out of his head.

He shoved the infirmary door open, letting it slam shut behind him. He knew the doctor would not appreciate the gesture, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was getting home. Getting home and going to sleep. He could drown out the world in his pillows and blankets, try not to cry, but if he did, at least no one would hear.

He choked up a little at the bitter reality that this is what his life had become. But he walked. And he walked. Eyes cloudy, arms limp and floppy, he followed the same route. The same beautiful trees, but the same bitter reminiscence. Why had this happened to him? Why couldn’t he have just had that rose-colored high school life he’d been hoping for? He shifted uncomfortably. Nothing felt right. His head hurt. His heart was heavy. Even his coat seemed itchier than usual.

Maybe Tatsuya was right. What use was there in looking forward?

_No,_ he reminded himself, _You’re being irrational, Yuuya. You’re just having a particularly bad day. Remember why you’re doing this. For Sakuya. For Nitori. For Leone._

He could not afford to get in his head like this. If he dwelled in his dismal reality, he wouldn’t be able to take it. But it seemed like every day, being positive became harder and harder. Whatever happened to bright-eyed first-year Yuuya, determined to make a change and be a Bright and Massive success?

That Yuuya had died with his dignity. It was no longer his reality, but it could at least still be his façade.

After a short walk that felt like forever, Yuuya arrived at the steps of his apartment building. With a half-relieved, half-defeated sigh, he reached into his coat pocket for his house keys.

As soon as he did, he knew something was wrong.

Yuuya did not possess many keys. He had his house key, his mail key, and that was about all. The keyring his fingers had brushed against had many more. His heart skipped a beat.

What was happening?

Even though he didn’t know what was going on, he was immediately certain it was Iwamine’s doing. Anything unusual was absolutely his fault. He shakily pulled out the keyring, and even the way it jingled in his trembling hands was an unusual sound. These keys weren’t his.

And whose else could they be?

“No, god no,” he whined, still barely processing what he’d found, “Why? Why?”

It made sense now, why he’d felt uncomfortable on the way home. He must have grabbed the doctor’s coat by mistake. How had he never noticed that they had such similar ones? He felt around in the pockets. It was a different material. Examining further, even the buttons and collar were different. _How_ hadn’t he noticed? He cursed under his breath. If he hadn’t been so stupid, so tired. If he’d taken even half a second to check and make sure he was all set before he left, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

_What in the name of hell am I supposed to do?_

It was dark, but he squinted to get a good look at the keys in his hand. Was this some kind of test? He fumbled through the keys, finding some larger, some smaller, and a few assorted membership cards he was far too frazzled to consider the implications of. Then he came across a small, glass vial. He brought the ring a little closer to his face to examine it. Inside was a somewhat thick, somewhat dark liquid.

After staring at it for a few seconds, he realized. He gasped and dropped the keys to the ground. He stumbled backwards and almost tripped down the front stairs. Perhaps he heard glass shatter. His mind was reeling. The liquid in the vial was blood.

Upon recovering his wits, he stared at the spot where he’d dropped them. The vial had indeed shattered, and blood oozed across the concrete of the doorstep. Yuuya didn’t even know what to think. He had to get his own keys, but they were all the way back at the infirmary. How would Iwamine react when he found out that his creepy blood vial had been broken? What if that blood had been (Yuuya grimaced) special to him in some way?

Yuuya didn’t even want to think about what hell he was about to pay. Unable to take it any longer, he tore Iwamine’s coat off and… he almost threw it to the ground, but getting it dirty wouldn’t help the awful _shit_ he’d already gotten himself into. Instead, he took a deep breath and hung it on the railing.

Was it the cold air, or was he shivering out of fear?

“I gotta go,” Yuuya decided. But where? Back to the infirmary? Surely the doctor had realized by now that his own jacket and keys were missing. Yuuya reached into the pocket of the hanging coat, finding and opening Iwamine’s disgustingly old flip phone. No new messages. Unsurprisingly, Iwamine had no friends. But it also meant he wasn’t trying to contact him. He put it back in the pocket.

Maybe he had time to get it back before it was missed. But the vial.

He couldn’t explain the vial.

Yuuya stood in the cold. He was lost. Still tired, still bruised and battered. This was the last thing he needed on his plate. But he didn’t even know where to start. He needed to compose himself before he could figure out the next course of action. Shivering, he slid to the ground and leaned against the railing, wincing and groaning as he did so. He tried to think rationally, but ended up staring blankly at his hands. There were still marks on his wrists. His wounds were still so fresh.

He wanted to go to sleep. He wanted to go to sleep forever.

For a while, he didn’t move. It was hard to tell how much time had passed. Thankfully, no one walked by or questioned anything, because who knows if Yuuya would have been able to explain. A man splayed defeatedly in front of his own home with a shattered vial of blood on the ground was a scenario difficult to comprehend. His eyes eventually fell closed. Maybe he didn’t need to worry about any of this. If he fell asleep now, maybe it would all be gone when he woke up.

Perhaps he _would_ have dozed off, were it not for a familiar voice addressing him.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

At first, Yuuya thought perhaps he was hallucinating. Was he having a nightmare? He slowly blinked his eyes open. He saw legs and followed them up to their corresponding face. It was the doctor, looking highly irritated and… wearing Yuuya’s jacket. Yuuya opened his mouth as though to speak, but no words came. There was too much to process. Instead, his exhausted, neutral expression melted into a soft, pleading smile.

_Please pity me. Just this once._

Iwamine sighed and rolled his eyes at his pathetic behavior. He snapped his fingers and pointed upward. Yuuya stared up at him desperately and mouthed “please”. Iwamine hardened his expression.

“Get. Up.”

Yuuya slowly and painstakingly did. The two stood across from each other for some time, Iwamine glowering and Yuuya staring at the ground. Finally, he rubbed the non-throbbing side of his neck and spoke.

“I'm sorry.”

Iwamine crossed his arms, “You certainly are. What made you think you could walk home with my things?”

Yuuya scoffed weakly, “Don’t act like this was an accident.”

“Excuse me?” Iwamine growled, eyes twitching with a genuine sort of displeasure Yuuya was actually somewhat startled by, “You think I _planned_ this little escapade?”

Yuuya wavered, “You didn’t? Ahaha... Admit it doctor, you can’t blame me for assuming.”

“Tch,” Iwamine shook his head, “I had better things to do this evening than chasing you down to retrieve my belongings. And now look what you’ve done.”

He gestured towards the keyring, which was now fully engulfed in a pool of blood. Yuuya was used to Iwamine’s carefully sculpted controlling ploys, and he knew by now how to adapt and handle them. But the dark bitterness in Iwamine’s tone, formed a pit in his gut. He glanced nervously up at his apartment window. These were unfamiliar waters... all too close to familiar territory.

He had caught Iwamine off guard. But now that he was here, there was no way he didn't have a plan.

“What are you going to do?”

“Well someone needs to clean up your blood, first of all.”

Yuuya paled, “Mine?”

“Well of course. It's a nice hue. I think it makes a wonderful keychain. Or well… it did. Pity you went and destroyed it.”

“If this wasn't your plan, why won't you just let me rest?” Yuuya said drily, “Take your stuff, go home. If I'm so unimportant, don't waste your time on me.”

Iwamine lurched forward as though to grab Yuuya by the neck, but he halted when it occurred to him that they were still in public, even if it was deserted. Yuuya flinched nonetheless.

“Listen,” Iwamine hissed, clenching the hand he would have used to grab him into a fist, “I have _things_ to do in my life. Torturing you isn't my only hobby, sorry to disappoint. You're not special, Sakazaki. But you'll be pleased to know that you've got my attention.”

Whatever irritation, whatever signs of his plans being thrown off Iwamine was showing, they were gone. His wry smirk had returned, and his calculating, controlling demeanor was as present as ever. Yuuya couldn't make eye contact. The doctor was still wearing his coat after all.

“Now, how about you clean up. Let’s see…. Hmm- this’ll do.”

Iwamine fished a wad of unused tissues out of Yuuya’s pocket and threw them in his direction. They fluttered to the ground, but Yuuya barely hesitated before picking them up. They locked eyes for a moment. Yuuya knew what he had to do.

Nonetheless, Iwamine said, “Now clean.”

Subservient as ever, Yuuya got on his knees and began feebly attempting to clean blood with flimsy tissue. He didn’t make much progress, really only managing to smear it more into the pavement. Not that Iwamine was concerned. As if the mess on Yuuya’s doorstep truly bothered him. It was merely a means of making him obey orders, and they both knew it.

After the blood was sufficiently… “cleaned” Yuuya dropped the tissues and hung his arms limply at his sides. He looked up at Iwamine like a pleading puppy.

“Please…” he whispered, “Just leave me alone.”

Iwamine laughed, reaching his hand into Yuuya’s pocket, “Hohoho, but why would I do that? You've been putting on a show for me with all your sniveling and whining.”

When his hand returned, he twirled a much smaller, less significant set of keys on his finger. Yuuya’s breath grew shakier and he braced his hands on the ground as though to rise at any moment.

“What are you doing.”

Again, not a question so much as a plea.

After grabbing his jacket off the railing and his keys off the ground, Iwamine idly palmed through the four or so keys on Yuuya’s own ring, taking a torturous amount of time to observe each one. As he did so, he took slow, deliberate steps towards the front door of the building. Up onto the stoop, right next to the door...

“Iwamine, wait,” Yuuya mustered all of his energy to hoist himself back onto his feet, grimacing all the while, “Doctor!”

Electing to ignore him, Iwamine found a larger key he felt was right and unlocked the door with one fluid motion. Yuuya stared in shock. It was then that he remembered so vividly a time when his heart was still whole enough to investigate the cruel doctor. That first day of freshman year, when he’d noticed with perfect clarity the ease with which the doctor unlocked the infirmary door.

Back then, that was simply data. A small note on the personality of a target to relay to his boss on orders. Tonight, that fluidity had let Iwamine waltz right into the vestibule of his own apartment building. One flight of stairs and one more door would let him right into the heart of his home.

“Doctor!” Yuuya tried again, louder now, more frantic. As Iwamine stepped across the door’s threshold, Yuuya reached out as though to stop him, but he halted. Panicked, he cursed under his breath, but he knew that he could never truly try to physically hold back the man who had him crushed so fiercely under his thumb. His fingers were a mere few centimeters away, but he was left hanging, his thoughts only wishful, as the doctor passed into the building and started up the stairs.

It was all happening so fast. Was this reality? Maybe this _was_ a nightmare. Maybe he had made it home and gotten to sleep.

But the bloodstain on his doorstep was sickeningly, sickeningly dark. And the pounding in his head was overwhelmingly, overwhelmingly strong. Was it freezing, or was his blood just running cold? Dizzily, he stared at the door. Having been left open by Iwamine, it swung slowly towards Yuuya, but did not close.

It’s as though even it knew that Yuuya had no choice but to follow.

Iwamine had given no instruction. He hadn’t needed to.

What would Yuuya do? The enemy had infiltrated the deepest parts of his fortress. He had nowhere else to go.

Groggily and helplessly, Yuuya trudged into the building and shut the door behind him, wincing at its click into place. What may have usually been a reassurance, solid proof that the door was now locked again, only served to seal his fate. The more he thought about the doctor freely roaming around his apartment, the more panicked he got. Despite all his hesitance, he broke into a jog up the stairs and down the hall. As much as he feared what awaited him, he also feared what Iwamine might do if he kept him waiting.

The door to his apartment, #205, was also ajar, and the lights were on beyond it. Yuuya attempted to take a deep breath, but his nerves were too frayed. This was a new low. He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t yet passed out under stress and exhaustion alone. Gulping, he reached a weak hand out and pushed the door feebly. It sort of budged. As he reached out to push it again, it jolted open before he touched it. Yuuya jumped.

Iwamine stood behind it, no longer wearing Yuuya’s coat, but the same shirt and vest he’d been wearing earlier. He rolled his eyes and gestured for him to come in.

“Welcome to my abode,” he said flatly.

Yuuya inhaled sharply through his nose, “Just. Don’t.”

Iwamine chuckled, amused by his insolence, and leaned casually against the door, “Oh come on. Be a good sport. I mean you practically _invited_ me here.”

Perhaps it was just how tired he was, or perhaps he was truly beginning to crack under it all, but Yuuya started laughing. He stepped past Iwamine and into his house, gesturing in a circle to the surroundings of his small studio and whirling around to face him.

“Oh _please_ ,” Yuuya dared, voice cracking and almost breaking again into nervous laughter, “You _followed me home_.”

Iwamine’s amusement was short-lived, and he narrowed his eyes sternly behind his thin, red frames, “I came to retrieve what was rightfully mine. My jacket. My keys. My cell phone. And the time you made me waste.”

Yuuya deadpanned and pointed to his left at an old clock on the wall that was fifteen minutes off, “If you want, you can have it.”

Iwamine’s eyes flashed. He shut the door firmly behind him, with force, but not hard enough to slam it. 

“Alright, Sakazaki,” he said with finality, “I think you’ve tested me enough this evening. You might want to quit while I still pity you enough to let you _get away with it._ ”

Iwamine spoke with composure at first, but it slowly chipped away until the last few words dripped with stinging venom. Yuuya opened his mouth. He closed it. He looked to the side, then down, then smiled weakly, then bit his lip. When he finally managed to figure out how he felt, he closed his eyes tightly and exhaled.

“Whatever you’re going to do,” he said meekly, holding out his hands in surrender. The corner of his mouth twitched briefly into a crooked smile, “Just do it.”

Iwamine rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and walked over to where Yuuya was standing, eyes still closed, prepared for anything. He slid his fingers into Yuuya’s hair and grabbed it. He revelled in the way that even with Yuuya’s eyes closed, he could see the pain in the way he squeezed them tighter. He smiled lightly.

This could be fun.

Iwamine trailed his hand down the side of Yuuya’s head and gripped him by the neck, “So you’re willing to let me violate you in your own home?”

“I’m not _letting_ you do anything,” Yuuya grunted, wincing from the pressure where he was already bruised, “I just know I can’t stop you.”

“Hmm… fair I suppose. It’s interesting though,” Iwamine trailed off as though in thought, then let go of Yuuya’s hair, “No matter. Turn around.”

Yuuya did so, but he couldn’t help but wonder... what was so _interesting_?

“What. Tell me.”

“I just wonder how you managed to convince yourself you had no say in all of this,” Iwamine said, slowly pushing Yuuya forward, step by step, until he was at the side of his bed at the end of the room, “Every day you surprise me more and more… just how _little_ you value yourself.”

Immediately, Yuuya regretted asking. He trailed his fingers along the soft, familiar fabric of his comforter and tried to ignore the words.

“Ha. Well fair enough. Now can we move on?”

Iwamine raised an eyebrow, perhaps now even _more_ intrigued. The main event could wait. He tapped Yuuya twice on the shoulder and turned him around to face him.

“I’m sorry... what?”

Yuuya blinked, “I said, can we move on. I’d like to get this over with.”

“Ohhh, no…” Iwamine cooed, “I’m certainly liking this development. Let me explain so that your tiny brain can comprehend it.”

Iwamine began unbuttoning Yuuya’s shirt.

“You do all of this for your brother, so you say,” he started his lecture, “So I’ve heard. But the reality is, you know you have an out. I’m unsure what it may be, but everyone does. I was simply right about you. I knew you wouldn’t have it in you to fight me off for long. I knew that in the end, whatever way out you did have... you’d ignore it.”

Yuuya didn’t stop himself this time. He grabbed Iwamine’s wrist and stopped him from reaching the final button of his shirt. His eyes, so often dull with the sadness that had become his everyday routine, glinted with anger.

“Do _not_ act like you know me, doctor,” he warned, “I have my reasons for going along with the sick, twisted _shit_ that you do.”

“Oh _who_ are you trying to kid, Sakazaki?” Iwamine sneered, twisting his forearm out of Yuuya’s grasp and tearing the last button open. The button itself snapped off and bounced across the floor. Iwamine grabbed Yuuya by the throat and squeezed just hard enough to shut him up for a moment, “That Le Bel boy? Even his father? Have you not let them both define your entire life? And I’m _sure_ they’re not the only other people you let step on you.”

Yuuya struggled for air. But if he were to die now, would he even truly care?

“You _know_ somewhere deep inside your poor, soggy heart,” Iwamine drily snarled, “That you don’t know _how_ to think for yourself. If it weren’t me putting you in your place every day, it’d be someone else. Anyone else. Because you’re spineless. You’re weak. And you need a sense of purpose.”

Iwamine let go of Yuuya’s windpipe and he clutched at his neck, gasping for air. Before he could even recover, Iwamine grabbed him by the arm and whirled him around once more. He shoved him face-down onto the bed with his left arm and unbuckled his belt with his right. Iwamine was not the strongest man, and was never much one for manhandling his pathetic little servant boy. In this moment, it proved just how truly feeble and tired the boy was. It wasn’t even _hard_.

Eyes squeezed shut in potent denial, Yuuya grasped at straws, he thought of his friends, Leone, the mission, “I _have_ a purpose.”

“Oh you certainly do,” Iwamine assured him, pushing his hair calmly out of his face, “And that purpose is being manipulated and used. Because Sakazaki… you just told me yourself…”

He smirked, knowing he’d won, leaned over, and unbuttoned Yuuya’s pants.

“...you’re a pathetic excuse for a pushover in every walk of life. And you’d rather let me rape you in your own home than hear me say it.”

Iwamine pressed the tip of his cock into Yuuya’s ass.

“Now. Let’s ‘move on,’ shall we?”


	24. Survive

Yuuya was certain he would never sleep again.

It was 2:27 AM when he left the house that night. Everything hurt. He limped slightly with each step. The marks on his wrists had finally faded, but the damage the doctor had done after the fact was as fresh as could be. His neck still ached. Every muscle strained. Past the point of exhaustion, his mind whirled with nonsense thoughts and horrid ones. As soon as the doctor had left his house, he’d risen haplessly from his bed and sat himself in the bathtub.

There, he’d cried for almost an hour. He even tried to fall asleep, still naked, hugging his knees and digging his nails into his arms. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep in his bed. Not tonight. Potentially even never again. It was the one safe place he had. And it had been torn from him.

And it was all his fault.

He shook his head vigorously.

“Nonononono…” he murmured, squeezing himself tighter. He couldn’t afford to believe what the doctor said… but what if it was true? He _was_ a pathetic, spineless fool. He _did_ let everyone push him around. What if he _did_ have an out? What if he’d just grown too comfortable with the status quo to notice it?

Yuuya thought back to something he’d thought as a young, scared, first-year, the day after the first time Iwamine had hurt him.

_Iwamine was an attractive man. How could he complain?_

He threw his head back against the tile of the tub and groaned. How did he let it get this bad?

“Dad,” he started wearily, in French, “Do you hate me?”

No response.

“I miss you terribly, papa. I hate the new father. I hate the new father so, so, much.”

He let his head loll forward onto his knees. To whom was he even speaking? No one who could listen, that’s for sure. His real father? Long dead. The one he’d been given? Dead to him.

The one who still cared for him…

Yuuya felt his breath return. He released his digging fingers and opened his eyes.

“ _Jean-Baptiste…_ ” he whispered groggily.

Leone. He still had Leone.

He remembered a time when he was very, very young. When he had first started to train under the doves, and he sat across from a youthful Leone J.B. in a sweet little Paris café. He was not even a teenager, and at the time, despite his hardships, the world still seemed like his oyster. He had the support he needed when times got tough, and he never could have imagined that things would end up the way they did.

“Monsieur Leone,” Yuuya started nervously, “If you’re going to be my mentor, can I ask you a question?”

“Ask anything, kiddo,” Leone told him with a serious expression, steepling his fingers on the table, “Just be prepared for the brutal, honest truth. To be a Dove, you have to be ready to soar above anything.”

Young Yuuya wasn’t fazed.

“What’s the J.B. stand for?”

Leone blinked and furrowed his brow in confusion. When the question really sank in, he smiled and chuckled. Yuuya frowned.

“Sir, what’s so funny?”

“Nothing, kid,” Leone said, scratching his then-shaven face, “I was just expecting something a bit more… serious.”

Yuuya scoffed, so sure of himself at such a young age, “Ah, but I am serious sir! The ‘important’ questions will come in time, _non?_ But for now, I need to know; what _does_ the J.B. stand for?”

“I don’t usually tell people that,” Leone said sternly, “Especially not fledgling trainees I’ve agreed to take under my wing.”

Interest piqued, Yuuya leaned his elbows on the table and rested his head in his palms, “Tell me. What, do you not trust me? I want to be friends, Leone.”

“Friends?” Leone raised his eyebrows, “You know we’ll be going into dangerous places together, right? You know there’s a great chance you may lose me.”

Yuuya rolled his eyes and pushed his messy hair out of his face, pouting at the assumption that he was ignorant to his situation, “ _Je ne suis pas stupide,_ Leone J.B. I know what I signed up for. But am I wrong to think that perhaps, if we strengthen our bond, it would _help_ us in our trials, not hurt? Is that not the way of a Dove? To always fight fire with love?”

Leone blinked. _Who the fuck_ is _this kid?_

“That’s… that’s pretty poetic, I guess.”

Yuuya tilted his head innocently, “It’s only realistic, _non?_ I’m not sure what you’ve been doing with your other mentees, but if you want this to work, monsieur, you’re going to have to be open with me.”

Leone’s eye twitched, “Uh-”

He wasn’t given time to speak.

“If you’re still hesitant, I shall start. My name is Sakazaki Yuuya. I am twelve. There’s a lot you don’t yet know about me, but you will in time, if you try. However, I am a man of my word. My secret is,” he winked mysteriously and tilted his glasses, flashing a smirk that was then so full of life, “I don’t actually need glasses.”

Without meaning to be, Leone found himself beaming. He’d seen a lot in his time. So many young boys and girls that he’d trained as well as he could. Plenty of them had gone on to bigger and better things and were climbing the ranks as well-respected Dove agents. But despite his best efforts… Leone J.B. couldn’t save them all.

This kid had a spark he’d never seen. He knew from the start that he wanted him to make it. No… he _needed_ him to make it.

“You’re funny. I like that.”

Yuuya gestured in a circular motion, beckoning him to spit it out, “Yes. Now, go on. Tell me.”

Leone sighed and leaned across the table, motioning for Yuuya to do the same. With bated breath, Yuuya leaned in as close as possible. Leone stalled for as long as possible, as though debating whether or not this _horrible_ secret could truly fall upon these young ears.

Whispering like it was the biggest secret on the planet, Leone said, “It’s Jean-Baptiste.”

Yuuya pulled away, “That’s it? _Jean-Baptiste?_ That’s not cool or intimidating at all.”

Leone smirked, “Why do you think I abbreviate it, kid? The point is to make it _seem_ cool and intimidating. I’m the quiet type. People fear that.”

Yuuya’s mouth hung agape as he took in this information. How _fascinating_ it had been to hear! What more was there to learn about this to-be mentor of his?! They looked at each other in silence for a moment, and suddenly Yuuya grinned widely.

“I like you, Leone J.B.”

“I like you too, Sakazaki,” Leone agreed, “You clearly show potential.”

Yuuya narrowed his eyes, “Why, because I got you to tell me your _deep, dark, secret?_ ”

Leone chuckled, “Yeah, that’s definitely it. Now how about we talk about the mission.”

“Fine, sir. But only if you agree to teach me your mysterious ways.”

“Deal, kid. Now listen up. In the world of a secret agent, it’s unsafe to have expectations.”

Stale water dripped from Yuuya’s bath faucet.

Now feeling more broken than ever before, Yuuya craved to be in that moment again. To be anywhere but here. Anywhen but now.

Anyone but the man he had become.

Over a few moments, the sound of his crying faded. His breath was still shaky, but steady enough. In the distance, he could hear the faint ticking of the clock in the other room. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

It was late.

Against all odds, Yuuya pulled himself together. He took a deep breath, stood up, nearly fell, and took a moment to clear his sudden vertigo. Slowly, he stepped out of his tub and onto more emotionally stable ground.

He knew where he needed to go.

After putting on a sweatshirt and some comfortable pants, Yuuya threw together a pathetic excuse for an overnight bag. Prepared with his plastic bag containing his school uniform and a toothbrush, as well as his bookbag, he sleepily walked outside. He locked his problems inside with the door.

He walked downstairs and out the front door, passing over the bloody doorstep without a thought. His mind was far too fried to feel anything right now. He hadn’t slept more than a few hours in days. All he knew was that he needed to get somewhere where he could relax. Even if just for a night.

For the third time that day, he walked a familiar route. The trees, the fences, the streetlights, all the same. Perhaps he meandered a bit slower than usual, bogged down by exhaustion and pain, but he ended up where he’d intended. Back at St. Pigeonations.

He was used to opening the front door of the school after hours. What he didn’t expect was for it to be locked.

Dumbfounded, he said, “uhhhh” out loud, and tried the door again. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t budge. After an elongated moment of confusion he may have skipped were he not so sleepy, Yuuya realized. Iwamine kept the door unlocked on Sunday nights just for him. Now that their session was over, it naturally would be locked.

Yuuya pulled out his cell phone and made a call.

It rang once. Twice. Three times. Fou-

“ _Hello?_ ” A gruff voice answered.

“Leone, did I wake you?”

“No fucking shit you did, it’s… three in the morning,” he grumbled, slurring somewhat, “Who’s this? Yuuya?”

“Yeah. Can I come in?”

“What?”

“I’m outside. Outside the school.”

“Are you compromised?” Leone’s tone was suddenly alert.

“No, no,” Yuuya assured him, “I’ve got the olive branch. But I need to come inside.”

_Olive branch._ Yuuya raised his eyebrows, surprised at his own ability to remember their code for all-clear in his current state of mind.

“I…” Leone started, then sighed loudly, “Okay. But you’ve got some explaining to do.”

Moments later, Yuuya was trembling from exertion on Leone’s couch as his mentor felt his head for fever and checked his pulse.

“Are you sick?”

“Maybe a little.”

“Why are you here?”

“I went for a late walk because I couldn’t sleep,” Yuuya said, and it wasn’t truly a lie, “I started to feel awful. So I came here.”

Leone, stomping around his little closet home in his robe and slippers, kept sighing and making grumbling noises under his breath. He didn’t look at Yuuya, only wandered around in his tiny kitchen preparing… something.

Yuuya blinked repeatedly to keep from falling asleep, “Are you mad at me?”

“No,” Leone told him, stirring his concoction, “I’m just worried.”

“I’m... really tired,” Yuuya started, trailing off between phrases, “It’s probably... just that. I figured maybe taking a walk... would help me sleep. Instead I just started to feel... light-headed.”

Having finished what he was making, Leone turned off the kitchen light and walked back to Yuuya on the couch. He placed a mug down on the coffee table and carefully draped a blanket around his young ward. 

“Drink this,” he said, picking up the drink and offering Yuuya a sip. Yuuya hesitated.

“What is it?”

“Hot toddy. Cures anything.”

Yuuya couldn’t help but smile slightly, rolling his eyes, “Oh yeah... You swear by that stuff.”

“Sure do, kiddo. Now here,” Leone held the cup steady while Yuuya slowly lifted it to his lips and had a taste. He smacked his lips and furrowed his brow.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s an acquired taste. But drink it up. Then, you’re going right to bed.”

Yuuya took a few more sips before addressing that, “You’re… not going to lecture me?”

Leone shook his head, “I’m tired too, son. Besides. I trust you. Remember that.”

There was a degree of solemnity in Leone’s expression, however tired. Leone _had_ put his trust in Yuuya. While he didn’t expect Yuuya to tell him the full truth, Leone made it clear that he expected Yuuya to make the right call as to if he should. Whether or not he would do so was an entirely different story.

Yuuya, nearly falling asleep as he drank, didn’t catch the deeper meaning.

“Okay sir,” he mumbled, putting down his mug and settling into the sofa with his blanket, “I’m gonna sleep now.”

Leone leaned in and kissed Yuuya on the head. Yuuya smiled.

“Good night, Leone.”

“Good night, son.”

In his haze of denial, fatigue and whiskey, Yuuya Sakazaki managed to sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Yuuya awoke to the sound shuffling near the front door. He groaned, displeased with the disturbance.

“Shit, sorry,” Leone whispered, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

It took Yuuya a moment to realize where he was. He still felt tired, but as though he’d taken a small nap. Having not been sleeping well lately anyway, he actually felt rather refreshed. He rubbed at the sleep in the corner of his eye.

“What time is it?” he slurred.

“‘Bout seven,” Leone said, “I’m off to work.”

Yuuya panicked, jolting suddenly into an upright position, “I have school today. Why _didn’t_ you wake me?”

“You’re not seriously thinking about going, are you? After how sick you were last night?”

Yuuya smiled weakly, “I feel a bit better. Your master concoction worked wonders. Besides, I’ve never missed a day of class.”

Leone looked as though he were going to oppose the idea, but he nodded reluctantly, “Fine. Go. There’s coffee if you want it. And nap in Kitagawa’s class.”

Yuuya rolled his eyes, “What _else_ is there to do in Kitagawa’s class? The man rambles off-topic for _ages_.”

Leone smiled slightly, “That’s my boy. Now stay safe, alright? If you start to feel ill again, go home.”

Yuuya nodded, “Yes sir.”

“Alright. I’m heading out. Bye.”

With a nod farewell, Leone walked out the door. Yuuya took a moment to process everything.

The marks of last night’s disaster had yet to disappear. He attempted stretching out his arms and legs, but his entire body still ached. The sides of his neck were sensitive to the touch, and he still felt like he needed an entire pot of coffee to function like a human being. But he was alive.

That was really all he could guarantee.

_What day is it?_ Yuuya found himself wondering, even though it should be clear. Monday. He didn’t aide today. Small victories, he supposed. He wasn’t sure he could handle seeing the doctor today– not after such a particularly humiliating night. The more he thought about it though, the more ill he began to feel. He stood up, groaning as he did so. Time to get ready.

He still had quite some time before he had to go to school. He poured himself a cup of Leone’s still-warm coffee, nursing it for quite some time. He wondered how his friends had spent their Sunday. Despite spending nearly all of his time with them, he felt as if he knew nothing about them. He would see them in class today, most likely. Would anyone even notice if the other was seeming off? Would any of them really care?

How deep did their friendship truly run?

Yuuya thought for a moment about Nitori. The doctor had given no sign of having hurt him, but Yuuya was still convinced that it may have happened. If it didn’t he still hoped to ensure that it never would. Despite not really feeling like he understood the boy, he did feel like he cared for him. He wanted to see him be okay.

With Tatsuya and Kamiya, he barely even cared if he spoke to them. They were simply omnipresent figures in his whirlwind of a life. Oblivious to everything.

Nitori? They had a kinship.

Maybe he would eat lunch with him today if he came in. He missed him. He’d been absent few times lately. Yuuya hoped he was alright, that it was merely another ploy for attention.

Yuuya took another swig of coffee. He glanced at Leone’s liquor cabinet and briefly considered spiking it. Lord knows there’s enough going on in his life right now. However, he decided against it. Drinking away his problems before eight in the morning was not a great way to remain under the radar. And that’s where he wanted his trauma to be.

Right?

As it had cooled a bit while he was lost in thought, Yuuya gulped down the last of the coffee in his mug and poured himself a new one. He drank it black because Leone did. At first, it had been because the man was his idol. As a teenager, he’d wanted to be like Leone in every way. Naturally, Yuuya still hoped to be half the man he was someday. Even so, he’d become comfortable in its bitterness. If he added milk… it felt wrong.

Halfway through his second cup he felt energized enough to start getting dressed. He pulled on his uniform as he did every morning, brushed his teeth, borrowed some of Leone’s cologne (a little rougher than he usually preferred, but it would do) and stared in the bathroom mirror.

His face looked the same as it ever did when he looked at it alone. His expression sat neutrally, neither happy nor sad, but perhaps only because he knew himself, did he notice the emptiness in his eyes. Unnerved by this appearance, he cracked his go-to carefree smile. There. Somehow, despite it all, that seemed most natural. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but his empty eyes seemed to glimmer when he smiled.

No wonder everyone bought it.

Sighing, Yuuya returned to his _au naturel_ numb expression, and got to work styling his hair. He’d given up and embraced the few pieces that refused to stay down, but he could at the very least make the rest look like a sexy and suave masterpiece. Thankfully, Leone had some hair gel lying around. Nothing would give away Yuuya’s inner turmoil more than going to school with flat hair.

After _far_ too long, as he always spent ages, he was pleased with his look.

“ _Magnifique,_ ” he murmured, but his words were less genuine than they used to be. On his first day, he had uttered those words with a confident conviction. Nowadays, it was simply an old unbreakable habit. It was a memory of times past, like a worn-out t-shirt he couldn’t bear to part with.

Finished in the bathroom, he turned off the light and exited it. He picked up his cell phone off the coffee table to check the time. It was dead. He sighed. Whatever. He tossed it in his bag and looked to his right at the digital clock he knew Leone kept on the bookshelf. It was 7:45. A little early, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt. He wouldn’t be the earliest. He could just head to homeroom and attempt (or at least pretend) to study until his friends showed up.

Business as usual.

Double checking to make sure he had everything, he prepared to exit the homey little closet. He supposed he would have to face going home tonight. He couldn’t say he was too excited for that, but he had survived one night. As Iwamine had taken him in his own home, his own bed, he couldn’t say he’d had much faith that that would even happen.

He started to feel nauseous. He had to stop _thinking_ so hard. His eyes flicked around and landed on a table near the door. There was a pack of cigarettes on it. After hesitating for a brief moment, Yuuya swiped it.

Could help.

Locking the door behind him, he exited the room and started down the hallway. Leone lived on the fourth floor, so he made his way down to the second where his classroom was. Although the coffee was helping him to function, he still felt as though he’d been run over by a car. He made it down one flight of stairs, then another, but as he walked down the hallway, he realized his critical mistake.

The infirmary. He halted in his tracks. His breath hitched. He didn’t want to go further. But his classroom was on the other side. _Why_ hadn’t he taken the route down the other stairwell? Because he was exhausted, and stupid, he had settled on the fastest route. Yuuya reached up and calmly stroked his own hair, tapping his fingers gently against the two golden clips in his hair. He’d spent quite some time adjusting them in the mirror.

They meant a lot more to him than anyone knew, and right now, they needed to give him strength.

How hard could it be to pass by a door?

He took a step forward. Progress.

“Good morning, Sakazaki.”

_Why?_

Slowly, dreadfully, Yuuya about-faced.

Iwamine was dressed for work in his usual sweater-vest and lab coat, but his hands were shoved smugly in his pockets, books and binders underarm.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Yuuya didn’t have the energy for this. He smiled, bitterly cordial and full of distress.

“Good to see you doctor,” he lied, “But I must go to class.”

“Oh must you run off so soon?” Iwamine asked, feigning genuine innocence, and checking his watch, “It’s not quite time for class yet, and it’s been _so_ long since we’ve spoken. The infirmary has been so busy these days, we never speak when you’re aiding. Are you avoiding me?”

Yuuya wanted to explode.

“I’m _sorry_ doctor,” he hissed, attempting but failing to repress his frustration, “But I have exams soon. I have to study. Adieu.”

He whirled around immediately. Iwamine’s dark and menacing chuckle echoed across the corridor.

“Suit yourself, Sakazaki,” he murmured, “I’ll see you soon enough.”

Yuuya broke into a jog down the hall.

He couldn’t bear this so soon. It felt like a nightmare. The compulsion was strong to simply pull out a cigarette now, light it up, go home, and waste the day away. But he had to go to school today. There was no turning back now.

To miss school because of something Iwamine did… it would be a failure. It would mean there was no escape.

Fueled by coffee, fear, and love alone, Sakazaki Yuuya entered his homeroom and slid into his desk. Taking a deep breath and opening his textbook, he attempted to focus on the bright side: he had survived. 

Maybe, if he was lucky, he would survive another day.


	25. Meaningless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok i meant to mention this last chapter but holy shit this thing is 50,000 words?? thank you to everyone for your support in helping me create this novel-length monstrosity of pure unadulterated sin. it means a lot!

When Yuuya exhaled, he liked to pretend his troubled floated away with the smoke. One more drag. Maybe this time, if he thought hard enough, they would truly all disappear. The smoke burned his lungs. He could almost _feel_ the damage he was doing.

Yuuya hated cigarettes, but they took the edge off. Just enough.

Although this downtown park at sunset was rather deserted, he heard the laughter of a child in the distance and quickly shielded the cigarette from view with his blazer. He scanned the area, but no one seemed to be walking down this path. Whoever was here, they were far enough away not to notice him breaking the law.

He’d done enough by now anyway. He was already going to hell. How much further into its depths could smoking one cigarette truly push him?

Watching the sun flickering through the leaves of the trees, he inhaled once again and leaned his head against the side of the statue he had camped himself next to. He sighed out a cloud of smoke. As he watched it float away, he did not detect any of his problems on any of the particles. The taste of the tobacco on his tongue made him feel dirty. It was only fitting, after all. He felt dirty constantly. This newfound vice only solidified what he always knew was true.

He disgusted himself. He was disgusting.

After school, he’d come straight here without speaking to anyone. This park was not the closest to his home, nor the school. Perhaps he’d just needed to get away. As far away as he could manage.

School had felt like it lasted forever. He’d eaten with Nitori at lunch, but their conversation was a haze. Perhaps he had asked if he was okay, having been absent and all. His answer couldn’t have been of much substance, but he did seem meeker than usual. Despite it being the last thing he needed, his odd behavior made Yuuya sick with worry.

Just thinking about Nitori made him tense up. He took another drag. He exhaled and grimaced.

Bitter and mad at himself for having stooped so low, Yuuya put out the cigarette and tossed the butt on the ground. What time was it now? He reached into his school bag and fished around for his phone to check. He clicked the button a few times. He groaned in annoyance. It was dead. He’d forgotten.

The sun was going down. He had to face going home eventually. Now was as good a time as any.

He took the subway most of the way, then walked the remaining few blocks. A stain of his own blood greeted him at the door, and for a moment, he swore he would break down on the spot. But despite his panic response, he managed to steel his frayed nerves and take deep, deep breaths.

Just go upstairs. One step at a time.

Up the stairwell. Down the hall. Open the door.

He felt dizzy.

While his usual first response after coming home from school was to flop down on his bed, he couldn’t bear it. Maybe he could sleep on the floor. Make a nest. Trying to keep the thoughts out of mind, he dropped his bag on the floor, plugged his phone in on his nightstand, and plopped himself down at his desk.

He drummed his fingers absently, attempting to ground himself in the sound. He glanced at a pile of stationary and lingered for a moment, debating. Sighing, he pulled a sheet out in front of him and picked up a pen.

> Dearest Sakuya,

He waited for the words to come.

_I hate myself. I want to die. I love you._

He crumpled up the paper and tossed it in the trash. With a long, exhausted groan only a broken man could utter, he slid his arms down his desk until his head fell onto it. He rested his cheek against the cold wood and closed his eyes. Just breathe, Yuuya. Breathe. He swore he could still feel the smoke in his lungs.

For an inconsequential amount of time, he stayed there. What was there to do with his night, anyway? Go out? Do homework? Why do that when he could wallow in despair? He sighed and lifted his head, slowly. The wood was warm now, and it stuck to the side of his face as he removed it. He turned towards his bookbag and _considered_ doing some homework.

He did have an essay due soon. Could be a decent distraction.

As he stood up to go fetch his notes, his phone buzzed from his nightstand. Seems like it had charged up. Before homework, he figured he should at least check up on his texts from the day. He unlocked his phone and scrolled down the list, still standing squeamishly a few feet away from his bed.

> **Tatsuya Yasuke - 86.05.22 | 17:12**  
>  bro… u wanna chill? im bored  
> 

> **Tatsuya Yasuke - 86.05.22 | 17:25**  
>  lameass. suit yourself  
> 

> **Unknown - 86.05.22 | 18:12**  
>  Tonight. Eight o’clock.  
> 

Yuuya dropped his phone. He heard a crack. His head started spinning. Still in a daze, he crouched down and picked up his phone. It still functioned, but he’d cracked the left edge of the screen. Figured. But it wasn’t the biggest thing on his plate right now. Yuuya stared at the time, glaring at him in glowing white text.

_20:37_

“Fuck,” he whispered, squeezing his phone so tightly his knuckles turned white, “Fuck, fuck… fuck.”

Dizzily, he read the next two messages.

> **Unknown - 86.05.22 | 20:10**  
>  Truly? Are you insane?  
> 

> **Unknown - 86.05.22 | 20:30**  
>  ...  
> 

Without thinking, he ran.

He grabbed his jacket ( _his_ jacket), shoved his phone in the pocket and sprinted. How many times was he going to have to make this godforfuckingsaken journey? His breath echoed in his ears, heartbeat pounding. As he ran, for the first time, to the school, his lungs were on fire. He wondered how Nitori even did it all the time. Perhaps though, if he were running away from his problems and not straight into the lion’s maw, he would be able to sprint with more vigor. Was that the appeal of track team after all?

What awaited Yuuya was no finish line. No medal. No achievement. Just shame and a mistake.

When he arrived at the front door of St. Pigeonations in record time, his gut was a pit of despair and nausea. He’d ran as fast as he could, made it there by 8:50, and yet still, he knew his rush wouldn’t help. He was already nearly an hour late for a meeting he hadn’t even known about until hardly more than ten minutes prior.

Why hadn’t he thought of the potential that Iwamine would contact him? Why hadn’t he just charged his phone? Bitterly, he figured maybe he assumed that Iwamine would at least have enough mercy to leave him alone. Just this once. Clearly, that was too much to ask.

Now walking swiftly, too tired to run, Yuuya made his way to the infirmary door and swung it open, standing in the threshold with wild eyes and heaving breath. Iwamine sat at his desk. His crossed arms and narrow eyes were a change from his usual demeanor. He was still in control… but he was displeased. For the second night in a row, Yuuya had disappointed him, and he didn’t even know how it kept happening.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuya immediately blubbered, letting the door shut behind him, “My phone was... I- I-”

“Save it,” Iwamine said. His words were flat, with a finality that dared Yuuya to speak again, “I’m shocked you’ve gotten so sloppy. After one meaningless night?”

“ _Meaningless?_ ” Yuuya countered, clenching his fist inside his coat pocket. His mouth hung open slightly, filled with words he wished he could say but knew he couldn’t. _You dare make a mockery of me? Again? You_ dare _belittle my experience?_

But Iwamine owned Yuuya’s trauma. They both knew it.

“Yes. Meaningless to me,” Iwamine stated coldly, rising to his feet and cracking his knuckles. He walked slowly up to Yuuya, standing so close that the poor boy could feed his breath. Yuuya closed his mouth and gulped.

“Now I’m sure you’re full of excuses as to why you were late tonight. You were _sad_ or you were _busy_ or you just didn’t see it in time. Your excuses don’t matter.”

“B- But- Iwamine, I-”

Iwamine clasped his hand over Yuuya’s mouth.

“Shut. Up.” Iwamine growled, looking him dead in the eyes, “I honestly cannot take it. When will you learn that your words mean absolutely nothing to me? Nothing you could say would make anything better for you. In fact, I struggle to recall a single time your input didn’t make things worse.”

He let go of Yuuya’s mouth and shrugged, patronizingly twisting a loose strand of his hair, “Suit yourself, though. To each his own.”

For a moment, they stood in silence. Iwamine continued to twirl Yuuya’s hair, and he fought off every instinct to knock his hand away. Instead, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. That way, it was easier not to feel Iwamine’s eyes on him. Analyzing. Considering his options.

“Well, I had a plan for tonight,” Iwamine said, letting Yuuya’s hair fall into his eyes, “I suppose it’d be a waste not to proceed as usual.”

After brushing his hair out of his face, Yuuya narrowed his eyes, “You’re not going to do anything?”

Iwamine raised his eyebrows in complete and utter disbelief at how truly oblivious this boy was, “Do you _want_ me to? What did I _just_ say about keeping your thoughts to yourself? It would truly do you some good. Hold on.”

He fetched a roll of bandages out of his desk drawer and smirked, “Consider this for your sake.”

Yuuya whined, a pitiful attempt at protest. Iwamine was used to that by now. He ignored it and got to work.

It was pathetic how easily and quickly Iwamine managed to get him subdued. A year ago, it had been a bit more of a hassle. A challenge. Now, with Yuuya always being so scared and compliant, there was hardly any fun in it at all. Yuuya was not blind to this fact. He had made a mistake tonight. The second in a row.

He had blundered, so when he found himself so familiarly bound to the same cot as ever, he couldn’t help but be skeptical. He wasn’t scared of the familiar. That he knew he could handle. He was scared of the unknown. The threat he knew loomed above him, even if Iwamine claimed there was no change.

The metal already dug into his ankles. His gauze-stuffed mouth already felt dry. He took deep breaths through his nose, as he had become accustomed to doing. It didn’t make it hurt any less, but it made him less likely to cry. Compared to last night, this would be a cakewalk. Unless Iwamine pulled all the stops.

If he was lucky, Iwamine would pity him just this once. Unfortunately, luck had always been one lady he could never manage to court.

“Comfortable?” Iwamine chuckled, “You’d better be. I still believe submission is a good look for you. I think you know that, as well.”

 _Get on with it,_ Yuuya begged silently, _If you’re going to do something, do it._

“God. It’s as if I can hear your incessant whining even when you’re gagged,” Iwamine rubbed his temples as though attempting to ward away a headache, “You really have been a pain, lately, you know that? First you steal my things, then you show up late. It’s a pity, honestly. 

Yuuya squeezed his eyes shut at the familiar sound of a belt unbuckling.

“You always feel the need to _fight_ me,” Iwamine continued to complain, “And while your reactions are wonderful data for this experiment, I can’t help but wonder why you try. After all, how hard can it possibly be to just lie down and take it?”

His mind was foggy as he tried to block everything out, but Yuuya somehow managed to process the doctor’s words. Lie down and take it? Is that not what he was quite _literally_ about to do?

 

“Ha… I’m sure you assume that’s what you’re doing, isn’t it?” Iwamine said, quirking an eyebrow knowingly, “Well I assure you, Sakazaki. You’re stronger than you think.”

Yuuya furrowed his brow, unsure how to interpret what had just been said. Was that meant to hurt his feelings?

“Don’t take that as a compliment,” Iwamine warned, “Your strength only compels me to break you further. However, by all means continue to rebel.”

Sick of waiting, Yuuya groaned loudly through his gag. _Get. On. With. It._

“Tch,” Iwamine rolled his eyes, “My point exactly. Have it your way, Sakazaki.”

So Iwamine had his way.

Not a thing seemed out of place. The pain. The sounds. No tears, but there seldom were these days. Yuuya had grown almost _comfortable_ with the process. It never felt better, it never felt worse, but with the knowledge he had done something worth reprimanding in the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but feel sicker than normal tonight.

As he lay limp, trying to numb it all, there was a part of him he wanted to deny. A part of him that wanted Iwamine to just keep proceeding as usual. If he were to finish, it would only mean something different could be in store next. As long as Iwamine was doing this, it meant he wasn’t doing anything worse.

Yuuya remembered freshman year, when he couldn’t have _imagined_ anything worse. Now, this was a walk in the park compared to incomprehensible horrors that could be in store.

Now, he was broken enough to let it happen. He would much rather lay back, stay quiet, and get fucked than face whatever punishment was in store.

_How hard can it possibly be to just lie down and take it?_

Compliance. Passivity. Had this been what Iwamine had been testing all along?

 _If ‘taking it’ is a test,_ Yuuya thought, when Iwamine took a brief break, _I’ve passed with flying colors._

In time, things came to an end. Yuuya numbly endured until the bitter, bitter finish, and Iwamine seemed satisfied enough.

“You’ve served your purpose, as per usual,” Iwamine noted, “Clearly last night wasn’t so _meaningful_ that you lost your ability to be my toy.”

Yuuya waited. Iwamine clicked his tongue a few times. He walked away from the cot. Grabbed something. Came back. Carefully, he cleaned up his own mess with a disposable rag. He tossed it in the trash. Unable to crane his neck back far enough, Yuuya relied on hearing what was going on. He was confused. Iwamine _always_ left the cleaning up to his victim.

What was going on here?

“You truly do look good like that. So helpless.”

_So I’ve heard._

“Are those restraints tight enough? I’ve never had a problem before, but would you care to test them for me?”

Yuuya did nothing. He would not give Iwamine that satisfaction.

“Seems that I’ll just have to make sure myself.”

Yuuya felt sick. Would he just let him go already? Iwamine walked around him, taking his time making sure his legs were tightly secured to the cot. He ensured that his wrists were bound snugly together and would not budge from the cot’s metal end. He even made the effort to tighten his gag even more. Yuuya protested as he almost choked. Iwamine chuckled.

“How does that feel?” Iwamine taunted, a satisfaction in his tone that made Yuuya shudder. If he was somehow managing to rile himself up again, that would mean round two for him, and he wasn’t sure he could handle that. Not two nights in a row.

Iwamine caressed the soft, scarred skin of Yuuya’s back, digging his nail into some of the more tender places. Yuuya groaned. Why was he stalling?

“Are you ready to go home yet, Sakazaki?”

Yuuya nodded. He’d do anything. _Please._

“I suspected as much,” Iwamine agreed, nodding his head. He took his hand off Yuuya’s back and turned around, “Well, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Yuuya froze.

_Eh?_

For a moment, he couldn’t process what was happening. Iwamine was there, taunting him, as usual, and then he wasn’t. There were footsteps. Shuffling. The lights flicked of. The sound of a key in a lock. When reality set in, so did panic, and he screamed. The sound was muffled, but he knew Iwamine would have heard. He tried again.

He’d just _left_ him there. It couldn’t really be happening, could it? Had this entire evening just been a nightmare? Sure, that was it. He’d fallen asleep at his desk is all. All he needed to do was…

He shook his head vigorously to ground himself in reality.

This _was_ reality.

He started hyperventilating. Frenzied attempts to inhale through his mouth only caused him to gag and panic more. Shaking and squeezing his fingers together, Yuuya somehow managed to gather his breath. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.

Every time it seemed like he’d found a steady pattern, it would hit him. He was _stuck_ here. Sure, he’d been bound like this more times than he could count, but he knew without a doubt each time that Iwamine would let him go when they were done. To stay like this, and for who knows how long, was unthinkable.

He _couldn’t_ do it.

With all his actions driven solely by his anxiety, Yuuya cried out for help. Someone. Anyone. He _could not_ do this tonight. Or ever. This room was his own personal hell on Earth. Although the doctor himself was long gone, Yuuya could still _feel_ his presence behind him. The sharp tingle of a knife on his skin, the anticipation of total violation. It was only a fear, but it felt so real. It seemed as though these cursed walls were closing in on him. He closed his eyes. Tighter. It didn’t help.

 _Maybe he’ll come back,_ Yuuya assured himself, _Maybe he’ll say this was all just a ruse._

But his gut feeling knew better than that. His weak attempts at calling for help eventually petered out into soft, heaving sobs. He was a wreck. This, above all, made that blatantly clear. From his cot, he could tilt his head and see the faint shine of moonlight on the leaves of the trees. Could Papa see him like this, from heaven? If so… what did he think?

_I’m sorry._

Soon enough, the initial panic wound down. It hit him with terrifying clarity how dangerous it was to have been calling for help. Nobody could know about this. Even now, he couldn’t tell a soul. He would _have_ to make it through this. It was his own cross to bear. Besides, if anyone were to have heard him… His heart did a somersault when he thought it.

_Leone._

His father figure most likely sat on his couch, sipping whiskey, only a flight of stairs and a short walk away. He was so close he could feel it. Little did Leone know that his young protegé was being held captive in just the other room. If only Yuuya could tell him everything. If only he could set him free, and the poor boy could cry in his arms. But that was only just a fantasy. Realistically, if Leone heard him, he would have hell to pay when Iwamine found out.

The concept made him sick. He wanted to throw up.

Time ticked away. His only measure of how much had gone by was the night sky out the window, and it didn’t seem to be getting any lighter. Throughout alternating bouts of panic and resignation, he realized this night would feel like forever… but it would have to end. Iwamine would have to return in the morning.

Still, he couldn’t stand it for a second. 

Despite its futility, and his usual tendency to simply let things happen, he found himself struggling against his restraints. Frankly, he was almost glad he was so tightly bound. If he’d managed to get free, he feared he might find too grave of a use for a scalpel or perhaps a syringe. He was sure there were enough things in this room that could kill him. Time, at the moment, seemed to be one of them.

_Everyone dies eventually, right? Dear God, why not tonight?_

He thought of Sakuya. Of Nitori. Everyone who mattered to him… would they miss him if he died? He liked to think so. With Sakuya, though, he couldn’t be so sure. Hell, if he died, how many years would it take before Sakuya even heard the news? The thought only made him sicker, and he shook his head and inhaled deeply through his nose.

_Don’t think of him right now. Anyone else._

Nitori. What had Iwamine done to _him_? He couldn’t have possibly hurt him as much as he’d hurt Yuuya… right?

 _Okay, maybe not_ anyone _else._

Perhaps it was best not to think at all, but he couldn’t help it. There was nothing else to do. He’d be lucky if he could get to sleep.

He felt damaged, humiliated, and afraid, but above all, he felt alone. He may have friends, he may have family, but this secret was his and Iwamine’s alone. No one would ever know what happened tonight. He had no one to confide in. No one to speak the entire truth to. At least, no one he could bear to tell. He knew the consequences would be too much for him. 

What defined ‘too much’, in the end?

Despite how sure he’d been that this night here would kill him, as time passed, he remained very much alive. It hit him over time that he _was_ stronger than he thought. Every time he was sure he couldn’t take anything worse, he managed to. Again and again. The thought was almost reassuring. Almost. 

He was still tied up. Helpless, left alone in the dark in a room he’d come to associate with his most traumatic times. The times he’d felt the most disgusting, the most violated.

This was just another one of those times. He still felt disgusting. He still felt violated. Despite it all, this felt like status quo, another wave in a sea of misery. Something he’d feared, but nothing he couldn’t handle. 

Dizzily, Yuuya accepted what he could no longer continue to deny. He’d been subjected to something new this evening, but at its core, this punishment was no worse than anything he’d been put through before.

No matter what, he couldn’t win. By those standards, Iwamine was correct.

Tonight, like all others, was no more than just another meaningless night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dedicated to one little dot in a cosmic spray. if you read this, thank you infinitely for your part in making this story what it is.


	26. Savior

“I see you’re still here.”

Groggily, Yuuya blinked opened his eyes. He squinted. It was bright. After a brief, blissful moment of not knowing where exactly he was, he woke up enough to remember what had happened to him. His entire body ached, his wrists and ankles were raw, and the gauze that had been stuffed in his mouth was soaked to the core. The voice that had awakened him could belong to no one else. It must be morning.

How had he fallen asleep? With how anxious and depressed he had been, he was sure he wouldn’t get a wink. That said, it did occur to him he had gotten barely four hours the night before. With everything that was going on, could he truly be surprised that his body had needed to shut down? Iwamine said something else. Still dazed, Yuuya didn’t hear him.

“Hello?” Iwamine walked to the side of the cot and waved a hand in front of Yuuya’s face.

“Hm?” Yuuya managed wearily.

“I _asked_ if you had a nice sleep.”

Yuuya scoffed.

“Ha, I thought not,” Iwamine chuckled. Luckily for Yuuya, he didn’t stall any longer, untying his hands from the cot’s frame. As usual, he’d leave the rest of the work to him. Iwamine stepped back and crossed his arms, watching from a distance as Yuuya untied himself, spit out his gag and stretched his jaw. Wiping the sweat off his forehead and fixing his hair, Yuuya looked at Iwamine with narrow eyes and sighed.

“Was that fun for you? Are you satisfied?”

Iwamine raised his eyebrows, “That’s all you have to say to me?”

“What else is there to say? I’m done grovelling.”

“Tch…” Iwamine scowled, “Well, you surely got what was coming to you, I believe.”

Yuuya smiled blankly and rolled his eyes slightly, “Then we’re in agreement. Now, if you excuse me, doctor, I’ll be heading home now.”

“Home?” Iwamine asked incredulously, leaning one hand on his desk, “It is Tuesday, you know.”

“Fuck,” Yuuya whispered out loud, clutching his head and groaning, “You’re right.”

Iwamine studied the boy for a moment. What was his mental state? How _had_ he handled the night in captivity? It was always so easy for him to read Yuuya. To be unsure now how he was taking it… was fascinating.

Was he losing his edge?

Watching Yuuya with his face in his hands, just trying to summon the energy to exist, assured him he was not. He would just have to make sure it stayed that way.

Now irate, Iwamine sighed and gestured towards the door, “Enough stalling. Get out of my sight.”

Yuuya looked up at him with a look of absolute disdain, “What, I thought you wanted to keep me here? Now you want me gone?”

Iwamine feigned as though to backhand him across the face. Yuuya flinched. Iwamine raised an eyebrow at him expectantly.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuya mumbled.

“With conviction.”

“I’m _sorry_ ”, he repeated, louder, and making eye contact. Their eyes met only briefly, though, as shame overtook him and he rose from his sitting position. He stretched his arms to the ceiling in an attempt to loosen his stiff joints. They were both unusually tall, but when they stood adjacent, Yuuya was hardly a centimeter shorter than Iwamine… it always seemed like a much larger difference. 

Perhaps it was the way Yuuya always shrank when he was around, hunched shoulders and a lowered head. Iwamine treasured that. Sometimes, when he would organize his files, he would skim past the boy’s, and make a mental note that his recorded 185 usually looked more like a solid 180. It was yet another little victory. He was so well controlled it was almost uncanny, to the point that anyone who cared to investigate could easily notice.

Why was it, then, that he was still so keen to keep on fighting?

Lost in his thoughts, Iwamine murmured something under his breath.

Yuuya, who was halfway across the room, stopped. Had he heard correctly? He considered asking him to repeat it. But he realized he didn’t want to know. His questions only brought him more pain. He’d had that lesson drilled into him enough lately, and he was at the limit as to what he could handle. Instead, he made _certain_ he had all of _his_ belongings, and walked straight out the door, letting it slam behind him.

Iwamine shook his head and got to work. It was for the better that Yuuya didn’t question anything this time. Some things were better left unsaid. In fact, he hadn’t even realized he’d said it out loud.

No matter.

Yuuya, on the other hand, did not go to class. In fact, he considered not going home either. His strongest desire was to hop on a train and take it to anywhere but here. Go far away. Maybe change his name. Forget everything. But he had nothing on him but his jacket, his phone (dead again) and a pack of cigarettes.

Besides, what would become of Sakuya if he ran away?

As he begrudgingly decided on walking towards his home after all, he sighed.

“The shit I do for you,” he muttered under his breath, but then covered his own mouth, eyes wide. Had he _truly_ just thought that? He didn’t mean it. Sakuya was everything to him. He would do anything for him. He deserved the world. Yuuya had accepted his fate long ago; he would sacrifice anything if it meant he could keep his brother alive, well, and oblivious.

He didn’t need to know any of it.

It was an unusually warm spring day. He held his jacket in his arms, as compared to last night it was far too hot to wear it. The buzz of cicadas all around him was the background to his thoughts, a mere ringing in his ears while he pondered as he wandered.

When was the last time he had written his brother?

He had attempted last night. Maybe a few nights prior. He could not recall the last time he had physically mailed out a letter. Finished one. Signed one.

Maybe he _was_ bitter.

Clenching his fist, he tried to take deep breaths. This wasn’t worth thinking about. What good could it do? He’d already become so entrenched in the doctor’s twisted scheme, but it was too much. Everything was too much. Until today, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt present at all. For months, maybe even a year, he’d felt like he was in a haze. Perhaps being intruded upon and then abandoned for the night had given him clarity.

Maybe he did have a limit. Maybe he _couldn’t_ do _everything._

Maybe he should just give up.

He realized he had stopped in his tracks. His hands shook at his sides. How had his thoughts so quickly become so dark? Where was his mind? What was he thinking?

Yuuya remembered he didn’t have the privilege of giving up.

He’d already killed one brother. He couldn’t kill another.

Antagonized by his own brutally blunt thought process, Yuuya broke into a jog. He was only a block or two away from his house by now, and despite his safe place having been violated, he had nowhere else to go. Besides, he had opened up a dangerous can of worms he had kept tucked deep, deep within his mind. If he was losing his knack for denial, he truly _was_ losing his mind.

When he finally made it back to his building, up to his room, he locked the door behind him and breathed in and out. This was his own fault. This panic attack? Iwamine had no hand in it. He had brought it upon himself.

There was no use trying to block it out any more. He’d opened the floodgates.

_Akira._

His eyes flickered to his desk. The drawer he hadn’t opened since he’d moved to Japan. Slowly, he took dizzy, weightless steps towards it. Wincing, he opened the drawer, revealing a dusty, black picture frame face-down within. He picked it up and turned it over.

_Remember when you were young?_

His mother had taken this photo, he remembered, and the words were in her soft, curly handwriting. It was one of the few times the three of them had been happy together, so carefree. They weren’t supposed to be in the gardens that day, especially not Yuuya. What with his ‘mongrel blood’ and all, he had been pawned off to some cousins as soon as his mother and Monsieur Le Bel had been married.

_“Monsieur has very kindly agreed to let you stay with a branch family, darling. You’ll be happy there. Safer. You won’t need to worry anymore.”_

His mother’s words when he was a mere toddler had always been such a distant memory, but they echoed so clearly today.

It had been Akira’s idea to invite Yuuya to play. Sakuya knew that if his father found out, they would all be punished severely… but Yuuya’s mother, the pure and loving Marianne Le Bel, thought it couldn’t hurt this one time. Despite Le Bel’s insistence on keeping them apart, She wanted Yuuya to know his brothers.

Brothers.

Yuuya hardly remembered when they were born. At the time, he hadn’t understood. How could he have? It wasn’t until later, through letters with his mother when he was almost a teenager, that he ever even found out the truth. Monsieur Le Bel had killed his true father. His mother had given birth to twins he wholeheartedly believed were his, but they weren’t. They still reeked of mongrel blood, but Monsieur’s senses were clouded by greed and conceit.

Marianne told Yuuya she always saw his father’s twinkle in Akira’s eyes. How Monsieur believed such a pure child could possibly be his own, she would never understand.

Sakuya was the favored child, anyway. Akira, even from the youngest of ages, showed no interest in anything fanciful or elegant. He was an eccentric toddler, curious, and he wanted to see the world. Sakuya, however, fell neatly into his “father’s” graces. It was almost too easy for Le Bel to decide his heir. To young Yuuya, it seemed all too clear that sooner or later, Akira would be sent off to live with some distant relatives as well.

Looking at this image, seeing the three of them together and smiling, brought tears to Yuuya’s eyes. Akira had never done anything wrong. He could not imagine a more innocent loss. The poor boy never should have died. 

Yuuya should have saved him.

The garden had not been the last time they had found a way to meet up in secret, but it had been the last time Yuuya had seen his mother. He’d only been six then. It wasn’t until a year later that everything had changed. It had been a freak accident on a mild summer night but Yuuya had never been able to shake the guilt.

It all came back to him.

* * *

“ _Mon dieu_ , Yuuya, you really are a mongrel.”

“Aki! That’s not funny!”

The three young brothers, no older than seven, had gathered that evening on the bank of a local stream. It was a rather fast flowing river that flowed a couple meters below the shore, often the place of choice for water rafting amongst the adrenaline junkie types. These children were not this type, but they also had a fondness for the area, with the sound of the rushing water and the lush greenery around. It wasn’t often that the trio found a chance to meet up together, but whenever they did, they tried to come here.

“You’re it!” Yuuya cried out, jabbing his finger into Sakuya’s shoulder as he sprinted past him into the riverside reeds.

 _“Merde!”_ Sakuya cursed, stomping his foot on the ground, “I’ll have your head, mongrel!”

Yuuya snickered and kept running in circles, indignantly whining, “Heeey, why do you always go after _me?_ ”

“Because you’re the mongrel, Yuuya,” Akira said, as though it were obvious, “And Sakuya, don’t swear!”

Sakuya murmured something under his breath, likely a swear, and swept his hair out of his face, whirling around and bolting at his elder brother. Yuuya yelped and jumped away, Akira joining in on the chase. Their game went on for over an hour, and eventually, they got tired. Yuuya was the first to collapse, having been tagged simultaneously by both his brothers rather hard in the ribs.

“Ah, I give up!” He cried dramatically, “You win, you win!”

Akira tackled him into the grass and the two boys giggled excitedly. Sakuya crossed his arms and looked on in disdain as they stained their clothes with grass and dirt, “While you fools keep fighting like animals, I’ll be over here keeping up appearances.”

Yuuya scoffed, shoving Akira off of him to somersault into the dirt. Wiping some of the grassy debris off his shoulder, he rolled his eyes at Sakuya, “Keeping up appearances? Isn’t that what you do when Father is watching you? Isn’t that the entire thing we try to avoid by sneaking around like this?”

Sakuya turned his head away from his elder brother, crossing his arms and remaining standing while his siblings relaxed on the ground, “Maybe for you two. I like to maintain my dignity.”

“What’s dignity mean?” Akira piped up innocently. Yuuya touched his knee and smiled.

“It means Sakuya is a stick in the mud,” Yuuya assured him, sticking out his tongue. He stood now, facing his brother with concern. It was an innocent, childish concern, one he would soon realize was nothing compared to reality, “What’s there to lose? Are… are you ashamed of me?”

Sakuya hesitated and kept his gaze averted from his brother’s. With a sigh, he turned back towards him with arms still crossed and face flushed, “I… of course I’m not. I don’t mind your company. I just know this can’t go on forever.”

“What do you mean?” Akira said softly, frowning, and fiddling with a twig. There was a smudge of dirt on his left cheek as he sat cross-legged in the brush, “Why not?”

Yuuya knew deep down that his Sakuya was right. Monsieur Le Bel had done everything in his power to keep them apart. They were all young, and Akira was none the wiser, but Yuuya and Sakuya especially knew that once they got older, Le Bel would place heavyweight responsibility on Sakuya’s shoulders. Best case scenario, Akira joined Yuuya on the outcast list, and they would lose the opportunity to meet up in secret.

Neither of them wanted to think about the worst case scenario.

“Because some things change when you get older,” Yuuya said sadly, wondering why Sakuya and Akira couldn’t have just been his blood brothers, “But we don’t need to think of that today. We should play more tag.”

“Yeah!” Akira agreed, hardly having paid attention to any of what his siblings had just said, “Tag!”

As swiftly as a spy, Yuuya lunged down to where Akira was still sitting and jabbed him in the shoulder. “You’re it!” he screamed, and jumped away.

Taken off guard, Akira stumbled to his feet and started chasing his brothers around again. Even Sakuya got his head back into the game and ran away, yelling, “Get back, fiend! Go for the mongrel!”

Akira considered this for a moment before deciding he was right and running for Yuuya. Yuuya panted as he ran in circles trying to avoid his half-brother’s cursed touch.

“Cooooome on, guys!” he whined, clutching his chest, “Stop always attacking the mongrel.”

Sakuya shrugged, standing still now that Akira wasn’t interested in pursuing him, “There’s no reason not to.”

Even then, boy Yuuya let those words get to him, as he always did. He stared at the sunset across the raging river as he ran along the edge. To be a mongrel was a bad thing, and he knew that. He’d always know it. Laughing softly as he ran, he agreed, “I suppose you’re right.”

“Take _this!_ ”

Yuuya heard Akira’s yell as he raced up behind him and he instinctively dodged to the right before his brother could land the finishing blow.

“Ah! Almost got me!”

“Waah!”

Akira stumbled and screamed.

“Aki?!” Yuuya gasped, whirling around to see what had happened, but he couldn’t find him in his frenzy. Where was Akira? Where had he gone? Sakuya’s eyes were wide and he was already running to the riverside.

“Good heavens, what have you done!?” he yelled, and it was then that he looked down over the edge of the bank and locked eyes with his little brother in the water, fingers turning white as he clung to a rock to keep from getting sucked into the current.

“I- I didn’t mean to-”

“Yuuya! Sakuya!” Akira screamed, squeezing his eyes shut. Yuuya dropped to the ground and reached for him as far as he could manage, but he was all the way at the water’s level meters below. Sakuya reached as well, but Yuuya was older, taller, and even he couldn’t quite reach him.

“Hang in there, Akira!” Sakuya cried.

“Help me!”

“A- Akira,” Yuuya started devising a plan, but his mind whirred with the noises around. The rush of the rapids and his brothers’ panicked screams were only making him lose focus. He had to get his head in the moment. He was the oldest. This was his responsibility.

“Just hold on, we-”

“Shut up,” Yuuya ordered Sakuya harshly, and for the first time in his life, Sakuya was stunned into silence. Yuuya didn’t know it then, but it would be the first and last time his brother ever listened to anything he said. 

“Akira,” Yuuya started with shaky breath, trying to calm him enough to stop his cries of anguish, “I’m gonna help you, okay? But I need you to calm down.”

Akira took some deep breaths, ceasing his frenzied screams but continuing to cry. His eyes remained tightly shut and his arms were wrapped around the rock as tightly as they good be. Yuuya strained to reach him, but he knew it was too far.

“Akira,” Yuuya repeated, “Look at me. I’m gonna need you to reach for me.”

“I’ll fall!” Akira cried, eyes still closed, “I’ll die!”

“ _Akira!_ ” Yuuya’s outstretched arm shook with terror, “Look at me!”

Slowly, Akira opened his eyes. Despite the fear in them, they were so purely and vibrantly blue. In that moment, if he’d known any better, he’d have noticed his father’s twinkle in those eyes like his mother always had. Instead he didn’t even realize he’d witnessed that twinkle fading out.

“Trust me,” Yuuya told him, offering a genuine, heartful smile even in these trying times, “Just please, trust me.”

Akira trembled and cried, squeezing his eyes shut again, “It’s so cold, Yuuya… _Mon dieu,_ Yuuya it’s so cold.”

“What are you _doing_?” Sakuya interjected, but Yuuya ignored him. He reached as far over the edge as he possibly could, worrying even for his own balance. It occurred to him in his distress that he himself may fall over the edge.

“Akira,” he repeated desperately, as though the word could change their fate, “Reach for me, please.”

_It’s your only chance._

“I _promise_ I’ll pull you up!”

_I don’t want to lose you._

“I won’t let you die, Akira!”

Opening his eyes one last time, Akira nodded and reached for Yuuya’s hand.

Yuuya wobbled towards the edge and panicked.

Their fingers only brushed before Akira’s fell away and his own pulled away from him.

* * *

Staring at this photo, Yuuya could hear his brother’s final scream crystal clear. It rang in his ear as painfully and clearly as Iwamine’s harshest words. They ground against his eardrums, against his mind, against his sanity. He clutched his temples with both hands and groaned as loudly as he could manage. He was sick of this. Sick of the demons. Sick of how everything hurt.

He’d expected to be more shell-shocked by the vivid memory, but he was numb. He’d repressed it for so long, it hardly even surprised him to remember after everything Iwamine had put him through. The pain was a hum. It all blurred together.

 _Are you happy?_ Yuuya asked the omnipresent Iwamine in his head, _I’ve spilled my soul. Would you be taking notes right now, or would you file away this photograph for evidence?_

With all Iwamine knew, Yuuya wondered… did he know this?

He knew Sakuya was his blood brother, so how _couldn’t_ he know? If he had found out at all, it was through birth records, and he wouldn’t have found Sakuya’s without Akira’s.

All along. He knew all along.

Unable to process this anymore, Yuuya strained his neck around to look at the broken wall clock behind him. If he calculated in the fifteen minute difference, it was roughly eight in the morning. School would have started by now. There was no reason for him to go back.

He took one last look at the photograph, and let Akira’s features make their home in his memory. He’d never truly forgotten what he looked like, but this way, he wouldn’t be able to deny it anymore. With a trembling sigh, he put the photo away and stood up. If he looked at it any longer, he was sure to start sobbing.

 _What would have happened if I hadn’t chickened out?_ Yuuya asked himself, for the hundredth time since that day, _What would have happened if I’d pulled him up? Would he still be here today?_

There was no way of answering that, because he had chickened out, hadn’t pulled him up, and Akira “Le Bel” Shirogane was gone. That’s how it always has been, and that’s how it would continue to be.

With no regard for the world, or anything, Yuuya half-heartedly plugged in his cell phone and crawled into bed. He’d hardly consider what he got in the infirmary “sleep” at all, and he was tired on a metaphysical level. As he curled up deep into the covers of what could hardly even be considered a sanctuary anymore, thoughts of everything and everyone whirled in his mind like a tornado.

He used to talk big, like he was going to be a hero and save the day. He came to this school to save students from getting murdered. What false pretenses, he realized, they all were. Because although it had always been his dream to change the world, Yuuya Sakazaki was no savior.

He couldn’t save Akira, he couldn’t save himself.

Why bother saving Sakuya?

As he forced himself to fall into a sleep he knew would be plagued with nightmares, he could only focus in on one thought.

Maybe Akira had been born to be a savior. Yuuya had merely come along to snuff out the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for bearing with how sporadically i update this fic! i still love it immeasurably and work so hard on it, life's just hard sometimes.


	27. Mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright guys buckle the fuck up
> 
> i rushed to edit this so i could post it on national bird day. enjoy, coo coo

Despite it all, Yuuya woke up the next morning. Despite it all, he put on clothes, shoes, a smile, and went to school. Despite it all, Yuuya still stood on his own two feet. Despite it all, Yuuya went to class, then to lunch.

He couldn’t fall apart. He’d come this far. If he did, would it all have been for nothing?

Lately, his facade had been slipping more than usual. His eyes were dimmer, his sighs more prominent, and above all, his default expression had turned from a faux smile to a weak, resting frown. Now in the lunch room with Tatsuya and Kamiya, Yuuya picked weakly at the disgusting slop he’d purchased. He tended to prefer to bring lunch himself, but as times changed, he hardly found the energy. It was difficult enough to make it through the day, difficult enough to eat at all.

The three friends ate in absolute silence for quite some time. In a lot of ways, they were hardly more than fillers for the empty spaces in each other’s lives. Kamiya shifted his eyes awkwardly. Tatsuya stared Yuuya down, eventually slamming down his chopsticks.

“Sakazaki, you need to get fucked up.”

Yuuya blinked, furrowed his brow, and with his mouth full of undercooked noodles, mumbled, “ _Excusez moi?_ ”

“You, me, my mom’s vodka, tomorrow night,” Tatsuya insisted, flipping his unkempt ponytail over his shoulders and crossing his arms, “You’ve been depressed. I don’t know why and I don’t care to know. But show up tomorrow, and I promise you’ll feel better.”

Kamiya almost seemed disappointed that he wasn’t invited, but they all knew he didn’t drink. Yuuya finished chewing his food, swallowed, and chuckled weakly, “I appreciate the offer, Tatsuya-kun. But I’ll fine.”

“Come on, man,” Tatsuya groaned, “I’m offering you free illegal booze for your woes. We never hang out anymore. Come over. Just this once.”

Rolling his eyes, Yuuya considered fighting him on it, but figured he wouldn’t back down. He released a defeated sigh and shrugged, shovelling some more cheap food into his face and talking through it, “Whatever. Sure.”

If the devil happened to knock on his door, he figured he’d just cancel.

Before anyone could say another word, a flash of bright vibrant color darted to the side of their table and kicked Yuuya’s chair leg from behind. He yelped and wobbled, grabbing onto the edge of the table to stabilize himself, miraculously managing not to tip over. Terrified, Yuuya whipped his head around and locked eyes with Akagawa Ayaka.

“Hey,” she demanded, arms crossed with fists still clenched, “You guys seen Tori-chan?”

“Gah! What are you talking about?” Yuuya gasped, shying back from her and pushing his chair away, “Who?”

“ _Naoki_ , you moron,” she hissed, flipping her long auburn hair off her shoulder, “Where is he?”

“Nitori-kun?” Yuuya asked, twitching his eye slightly, “I… he’s been missing a lot of school lately. I haven’t seen him.”

“I saw him yesterday morning, said he was feeling a little sick,” Kamiya said, surprisingly calm despite her threatening demeanor, but after all, they were supposedly friends, “But not since then. I don’t think he’s in today.”

Akagawa’s eyes flashed with concern, but she attempted to hide it with another fierce glare, “Well if any of you see him, tell me, okay? I’m worried. Bye.”

Without further chit-chat, she absconded out of the cafeteria. Yuuya wondered where she was eating her lunch. Did she even have anyone to eat with? It made him sad that the only reason people didn’t harass her was because they were afraid of her. It was terrible that people were so judgmental.

Tatsuya shuddered, “God, he’s a basket case.”

Kamiya kicked him under the table. Tatsuya rolled his eyes.

“She.”

“You’re an ass,” Kamiya muttered, but went back to his food. Yuuya didn’t have the energy to deal with political debate. Tatsuya could be impossible sometimes.

Instead, he couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to Nitori. Where _had_ he been lately? Had he been so caught up in his own self-pity that he’d forgotten to look out for the boy he’d sworn to protect? His heart seemed to sink like a brick. Just another thing to add to his ever-growing guilty conscience.

His phone buzzed on the table. Tatsuya glanced at it, and Yuuya panickedly snatched it away before he could see. What if it was Iwamine?

Sure enough.

> **Unknown - 86.05.24 | 17:12**  
>  After school today. I have a surprise for you.  
> 

Yuuya retched, but quickly covered his mouth. Kamiya looked at him with wide eyes, “Sakazaki-kun, are you okay?”

Dizzily, and thankful he hadn’t hurled on the cafeteria floor, Yuuya smiled and nodded, “Uh, yeah. Just still getting over my stomach bug from yesterday.”

Tatsuya snickered, “Remind me to stay out of your way after we drink tomorrow.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Yuuya, as always, considered replying to Iwamine with the middle finger emoji, but instead, left it unanswered as per his usual. In fact, he wasn’t a hundred percent sure if he’d _ever_ sent a message back to Iwamine. He hadn’t even named him in his contacts. Using his real name was out of the question. He’d considered something akin to “Jackass” or “Satan”, but in the end, leaving the number as it was was the best way to feel like none of this was real.

Temporarily.

The rest of the day went by faster than Yuuya would have liked, and after his final period, he slung his bag over his shoulder and sighed deeply. Wearily, he made his way down the hall to the infirmary and tried the door. Surprisingly, it was locked. Yuuya squinted. Usually Iwamine kept the door open, at least to let him in. Before he could even knock, Iwamine opened the door just enough to let Yuuya enter.

“Come in.”

Wordlessly, Yuuya did. Immediately upon inhaling, he felt the contents of his stomach lurch again.

“God, doctor,” he moaned, clutching his belly, “Have you ever heard of a shower?”

Iwamine slapped him across the face. Yuuya jolted and rubbed his cheek, but then sighed and shrugged. That was commonplace by now. He figured at this point, he deserved it.

“It continuously shocks me just how insolent you are. I’m kind of surprised you had the gall to skip school yesterday. It’s unlike you,” Iwamine told him, adjusting his glasses, “But you know, you actually did me a favor.”

Yuuya blinked, “What on earth are you talking about?”

A sickening smirk slipped onto Iwamine’s face and he gestured at the furthest cot from the door. The curtain had been pulled, separating it from the others, and Yuuya’s heart nearly stopped as he realized what may lie beyond it.

“No.”

“Ohoho, yes.”

His mission. The rumor. Iwamine was more than just a sick, sadistic rapist. He was a cold-blooded student killer.

Yuuya dashed to the far side of the room and pulled back the curtain. There, lying cold and lifeless on the cot, was the body of Nitori Naoki. As quickly as he’d approached, he lurched away, unable to look.

System shocked, Yuuya collapsed to his knees and finally expelled the contents of his stomach onto the floor. His head spun, and perhaps Iwamine was speaking, but he surely couldn’t hear him. Images of the body were seared into his mind, even though he’d hardly taken a glance. His breath came in heaves, but he was too in shock to cry. He was sick of crying. Maybe he was out of tears.

“Happy belated birthday,” Iwamine told him, “I’m sorry I couldn’t find him for you sooner. For _whatever reason_ that hypochondriac never came in here. Until his little boyfriend who’d been playing nurse left him for the wolves.”

Yuuya was hardly listening. He suddenly felt like a child again. A cowardly boy staring into the petrified eyes of his innocent, dying little brother. He’d been selfish then, and he was selfish now. How had he been so concerned with his own life that he neglected to consider the lives of his closest friends? As usual, he was a disgusting excuse for an agent of peace. Wasn’t he supposed to be able to soar above any adversity?

“Get up. You look pathetic. You can clean up your mess later.”

Slowly and shakily, Yuuya rose to a hunched over standing position, left arm still clutching his abdomen. He’d seen so much death during his life and career, but none of that prepared him for a closer look at Nitori’s body. His throat had been slit clean, and the boys eyes were as wide as ever, even without his huge round glasses and glazed over in death. He died afraid. In fact, maybe he was always afraid. Afraid of what? This? Worse?

What came as hardly a surprise, but still a shock to the heart, were the bruises, scars and ligature marks scattered on the poor child’s body. Yuuya wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. But he had screamed and cried as much as he could handle over his own problems. In the face of his murdered best friend, the boy who loved him more than he could ever love himself, he had no idea how to react.

“How long?” he whispered.

“How long did it take me? Oh, not long at all. He died quickly. Seemed rather eager, actually.”

“No,” Yuuya said in a harsh, low, monotone, “How long have you been doing this to him?”

Had Yuuya been able to look anywhere but the floor, he may have noticed the slight look of confusion on the doctor’s face.

“I killed him yesterday morning.”

Yuuya took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut, “You know what I mean.”

“I… you seem to be mistaken, actually–”

“The _bruises_!” Yuuya near yelled, clenching his fists and shooting a glare up at Iwamine, “The _rope marks_! You _fucked_ him too, don’t even try to deny it!”

“Such harsh words...” Iwamine mumbled, rolling his eyes, “But honestly, that was not me. Far too amateurish. And not enough blood.”

Yuuya blinked, looked at Iwamine, and then looked back at Nitori.

“He was like this when I found him,” Iwamine stated simply with a shrug, “All I did was deal the finishing blow.”

“You’re serious?” Yuuya choked, laughing in shock and disbelief. He reached out as though to caress the boy’s skin, but shyed back. His own touch felt tainted enough to hurt the boy more, even in death.

“Why would I lie?” Iwamine asked, “You know full well I’d take credit where it’s due. I very well could have had my way with him, you’re not wrong.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Yuuya demanded, “You certainly didn’t fucking hesitate with me.”

Iwamine shrugged, lifting Nitori’s arm and examining the marks on his wrist, then dropping it unceremoniously back on the cot, “No fun in breaking something that’s already broken.”

Yuuya stared into Nitori’s lifeless eyes. He’d been right; Nitori had been raped. He’d been wrong; it had not been Iwamine. If not Iwamine… then who?

All the missed school. The fear in Akagawa’s eyes when he hadn’t been around.

Someone at home? He felt woozy again.

“To be frank with you, I doubt he even would have cared. Came in here asking for some ibuprofen. I simply found a better way to treat his pain.”

“You’re sick,” Yuuya babbled, closing his eyes, “You actually killed him.”

Iwamine rolled his eyes, “Oh don’t act like you’re surprised. Everyone knows I kill people.”

“But you killed _Nitori_.”

“Apt observation. You’re correct. And _you’re_ going to dispose of him.”

Yuuya’s balance wavered, “I’m sorry, what?”

Iwamine picked a cleaver up off a nearby cart, one he hadn’t even noticed he was here, “Well I _clearly_ can’t have someone finding him like this, and I have things to do. Get to work.”

Upon realizing the implications, Yuuya shook his head vigorously, “You’re kidding. I- I can’t...”

“You know, Sakazaki,” Iwamine started, temporarily putting the cleaver back down to build upon this new thought, “When I met you, when I told you I knew of your brother and informed you of what our arrangement would be, you asked me, ‘Doctor Iwamine, you can’t be serious?’”

He reached for Yuuya’s face and stroked the side of his cheek gently, against the shudders of his shaky breath. Iwamine revelled in the look of fear that even after all his attempts to numb himself, the poor boy couldn’t seem to lose. Then, he slapped him again, just to prove he could get away with it.

“I dare you to ask me again.”

“...What if I say no?”

Without hesitating for a second, Iwamine drew his flip phone out of his pocket, pressed one number, and it started ringing. Yuuya hysterically jumped towards him and grabbed the phone out of his hand, seeing the words François Le Bel on the screen as he slammed the end call button. Iwamine glared at him. Yuuya held the phone to his chest and could think of no words, simply staring at Iwamine with wide, helpless eyes.

This was a new low, even for him.

Iwamine picked up the cleaver and offered a trade. Reluctantly, Yuuya handed him the phone and took the knife in his shaking hands.

Quietly, he whispered, “You actually have him on speed dial.”

“I take my work very seriously. Now get to yours.”

In some circumstances, Iwamine might play a nonchalance card and go back to his desk, work on something unrelated, but the notion of immediate bloodshed was too much for him to resist. After all, what good was it to make the boy suffer if he didn’t get to watch?

Yuuya stepped closer to the body. His mind was melting. He tried to believe this wasn’t reality, to dissociate, but he’d been doing that for far too long. Those beady, lifeless eyes on him… Watching. Judging. He couldn’t take it any longer. Before doing what he’d been commanded to do, Yuuya closed the body’s eyes like they do in the movies.

“Charming. Now move along. I have work to do.”

“P- Please.”

Iwamine pushed him so he nearly stumbled onto Nitori.

“ _Please_ just stop begging and start.”

“Okay…”

Yuuya took a deep breath. He had handled this all so far. If he was already going straight to hell, what did it matter if there was another sin on his roster. Looking at him made him choke up, but he had to do it. 

As twisted as it was, Yuuya could only bring himself to act if he thought on the bright side. At least this way, if he buried the pieces, he would never have to look at his battered body again. There was no way he could have known. No way he could have stopped it. So why did he feel like it was all his fault?

“I’m sorry, Nitori-kun…” Yuuya murmured his final goodbye all too late, “I’m so, so sorry…”

If someone asked him, he wouldn’t be able to tell you much about what happened in the moments that followed. He went somewhere else, maybe in another universe. His father was there, Akira, Nitori. He missed them all so much, and in those moments of shock and denial, Yuuya was right there with them. He held their hands, told them it would all be okay, and they all assured him the same.

Yet his fantasy cracked and oozed like a bloody mirror.

He dumped piece after piece of his friend’s severed body into a plastic bag like trash.

Akira’s smile. His father’s laugh, so strong, yet he hardly remembered. Nitori’s living, beating heart, so pure, so deserving of so much better.

There was blood. So much blood.

“Beautiful color, isn’t it?”

Yuuya ignored him. Yuuya ignored everything. _Think happy thoughts._

“He was probably your closest friend, wasn’t he?”

Yuuya gulped and squeezed his eyes shut, but he could still hear the squelch of flesh, the grating of metal on bone. When his eyes were open, his vision was hazey.

“Ha, no wonder you never let him near me. I suppose you thought you could save him. He reminds you a bit of an innocent boy, no?”

Gritting his teeth, Yuuya wiped blood off his hand, trying desperately not to give in and reply.

“A surrogate Sakuya?”

“Stop.”

“No, no, you’re right. But perhaps… Akira?”

Yuuya halted in his tracks and turned around, facing Iwamine with his bloodstained clothes and skin.

“Why am I not surprised you knew about him?”

“I knew your family,” Iwamine said with a shrug, “His tragic accident made the news.”

“Yeah well,” Yuuya said bitterly, turning back to his heart-wrenching task. His entire world was starting to crumble. As he sliced the cleaver into Nitori’s flesh again, his voice cracked, “He’s gone now.”

Yuuya wasn’t even sure who he was talking about anymore, and Iwamine, though he’d broken him on a whole new level, couldn’t seem to smile. For what may have been the first time ever, the cruelest of doctors looked away from a sea of blood.

“Yes,” Iwamine said distantly, “Yes. He certainly is.”


	28. Nothing Matters Anymore

Yuuya could see nothing but blood when he closed his eyes.

The noise of the school cafeteria surrounded him. His friends voices melted into the background, a hum of worthless conversation that couldn’t get through to him if he tried. He’d walked into the lunch room the same way he’d walked into all of his classes that day, head down and without a word to anyone. He’d taken his seat at their usual table without any acknowledgement and now sat with his head on the table, sighing deeply into his arms and trying not to cry.

He tried desperately to scrape the image of his dear friend, lifeless and covered in scars and blood, from his mind. No matter how hard he smushed his face into his folded arms, the pitch blackness of his vision couldn’t shake the crimson wave he seemed to eternally be drowning in. Rumor had it that Doctor Iwamine could only see the color red. If that were true, Yuuya figured, it made sense why he thirsted to see him bleed.

“Sakazaki… talk to us, Sakazaki.” Kamiya’s voice penetrated his defensive barrier, to be ignored.

“Yo, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Tatsuya now, whining too clearly to melt into the ambience, but Yuuya still elected to not care.

What did it matter to him anymore if they suspected something was wrong, or even knew? At this point, he couldn’t hide it any longer. Were they worried about their friend? Did they even suspect anything at this point, or were they still blissfully unaware of the fact that they would never see young Nitori-kun again? Yuuya knew this. Yuuya had taken his severed limbs and disposed of them himself.

Yuuya held the weight of that knowledge, and the weight that he could never share it with them. 

For what seemed like forever, Yuuya remained in his little cocoon, dreading the sound of the bell ringing. He knew that the bell signified the end of lunch, and his next period was aiding for Iwamine. Half of him wanted to skip class The other half wanted to skip town. In the end, it was something that was no part of him at all that won over and urged him to bite the bullet and go to aide period. He supposed he could survive. He supposed he’d have to.

“S- Sakazaki, you might wanna–”

Kamiya’s voice was cut off by a squeal as Yuuya’s shoulders were gripped from behind. His assailant harshly jerked him up from the table and dug their long fingernails into his skin. Panicking at the sudden violent touch, Yuuya started hyperventilating.

“I’m gonna say it again,” said a voice, Akagawa’s he realized, “ _Where. The fuck. Is he?_ ”

Yuuya couldn’t find it within himself to summon words. His eyes were wide and his heart beat faster than a hummingbird’s. _Let go of me. Please, god, just leave me be._

“U- Uh, Akagawa-san,” Kamiya stammered, flinching when her glare aimed towards him instead of Sakazaki, “I- I think he’s freaking out.”

Reluctantly, Ayaka released him, swirling around to his side to evaluate the damage. To everyone’s surprise, she seemed to soften when she saw the state he was in. She furrowed her brow and bit her lip, crossing her arms expectantly.

“Can you talk to me?”

Yuuya blinked, slowly attempting to take a few deep breaths. When he managed to pull himself together, he nodded slowly, but couldn’t quite manage to speak. He opened his mouth to start, but faltered and looked at her apologetically. The fear he spotted in her eyes alarmed him, however, and he nervously averted his gaze again.

“Sakazaki…” she started, more anxious than before, “Where is Nitori?”

“Why are you asking him?” Tatsuya grumbled, “How should he know?”

“Because other than me, Sakazaki is the person Nitori speaks to the most, and I haven’t heard from him in days, okay?” Akagawa snapped, flipping her head towards Tatsuya and effectively shutting him up, “I… I’m sorry, guys. He’s just not like this. I’m worried something terrible happened to him.”

“Something terrible... like what?” Kamiya piped up warily, fidgeting with the fabric of his red ascot, which seemed to irritate Akagawa for whatever reason. The apology had taken all three of them by surprise, and when Akagawa was worried, it was usually for good reason.

Akagawa swallowed, looking back to Yuuya, who still couldn’t bear to meet her gaze, “I don’t know.”

Even with his eyes open and glazed over, Yuuya’s mind was plagued with images of the scars and ligature marks on Nitori’s body. If she knew anything about that, he could imagine that might be where her mind was going. He wanted more than anything to tell the truth, to confess it all and leave himself at the mercy of the judge, jury and executioner… but he was too weak.

He didn’t say anything. He wouldn’t. He still felt like he couldn’t.

“Sakazaki-kun,” Akagawa said softly and crouched down next to his chair. She took a deep breath, resisting her usual gruff demeanor. It seemed like an attempt to channel the mother hen side of her they all knew existed around Nitori, “What can you tell me? When did you last see him?”

Yuuya almost choked on his own saliva.

Dead or alive?

With six nervous eyes on him and no words he could say, Yuuya felt as though he were being burned alive in a pressure cooker. His breath grew shallower and shakier and he broke into a cold sweat. Ayaka reached out as though to touch his shoulder, but hesitated. Perhaps she was recognizing something all too familiar in the vacant look in his eyes.

“Sakazaki…” she said again, quieter this time, “Are _you_ okay?”

For the first time in longer than he could remember, Yuuya shook his head.

“He’s gone.”

Kamiya gasped. Tatsuya dropped the one singular chopstick he’d been using to poke at a rice ball.

“What do you mean by that?” Akagawa cried, shaking him by the shoulders and forgetting any past reservations, “How do you know he’s gone?”

Yuuya had no idea how to answer that question. What was he supposed to say? Well you see, Akagawa-san, I tore him limb from limb with my bare hands last night.

“You know, I think I did hear something about that,” Kamiya murmured nervously, and Yuuya looked up.

“What do you mean?” Akagawa pressed, turning her vicious intensity towards the boy. Kamiya flinched at her aggressive gaze.

“I… Well this morning, in Japanese, I overheard Hasekura-sensei talking on the phone… he mentioned Nitori’s name,” he started.

“Cut to the chase!” Tatsuya insisted, “Akagawa’s gonna blow a fuckin’ gasket.”

Akagawa nodded rapidly, her tiny side-ponytail bouncing all-too-innocently as she did so. She was quite cutesy for someone who could kill you empty-handed without breaking a sweat.

“O- Okay well,” Kamiya stammered, twisting his fingers together anxiously, “I was a little worried after yesterday, since he hasn’t been around. It seemed like it was a man on the phone. I heard sensei ask if Nitori was okay, then he kept nodding… and then he got all solemn.”

Akagawa blinked, “Is that it?”

“He said something along the lines of, ‘I hope you find him,’” Kamiya concluded, holding his hands up in surrender, “I swear, that’s all I heard. It only made me feel worse, like he’d been kidnapped.”

“Kidnapped,” Akagawa muttered bitterly, kicking the cafeteria floor hard enough to leave a dark scuff mark, “Sure.”

Against his instincts, Yuuya looked at her. For a moment, the two locked eyes, knowing full well they each knew something the other didn’t. Nonetheless, there was no time for questions. She had the answer she needed now. Not the answer she wanted, but realistically, the one she deep down knew would always be the end.

“Well, that settles it,” she said, voice tinged with a dark hint of nihilism, “I’m done.”

“I’m sorry, Akagawa-san,” Kamiya blubbered, frowning deeply and bowing his condolences, “I should have spoke up sooner. I just thought Sakazaki-kun might know something.”

“Yeah, well, clearly he’s useless,” Tatsuya jibed, elbowing Yuuya in the arm. Yuuya didn’t flinch.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said simply, giving him a somewhat tired glare, “Nothing matters anymore.”

In a final huff of fury, Ayaka grabbed Kamiya by his bright red ascot and yanked it off his neck, throwing it unceremoniously onto the center of their lunch table.

“Lose the scarf, Kamiya-kun,” she muttered, turning around and walking away, “That color makes me fucking sick.”

Yuuya stared at her as she retreated and wondered, all too knowingly, if he would ever see her again. He knew those dark, foreboding words. He felt her sadness. Her desperation.

He knew what it felt like to have almost nothing left. Was he wrong to think Nitori might have been all she had at all?

The thought made him queasy and he went to put his head back on the table, but the bell rang for aide period. Yuuya groaned as they all stood up. Tatsuya put his hand comfortingly on his shoulder, and Yuuya didn’t resist.

“Hey, Sakazaki,” he started, dark eyes locking with his more solemnly than ever before, “I’m not gonna pry into your personal life, okay? But promise me something.”

Yuuya waited expectantly for him to continue.

“Still drink with me tonight. I… think we could both use a break.”

 _Fuck it,_ Yuuya thought, _What do I have to lose?_

“Deal,” he managed weakly, forcing out the fakest and most pathetic of smiles he’d ever forged, “Meet up at the front gate after school?”

“Right on!” Tatsuya smiled as they tossed their trash and headed towards their classes, “See you then!”

* * *

Yuuya survived the rest of the day. That seemed to be all he did anymore. Survive. He’d been trained for years in the art of it, so why now did it seem so hard to do?

He and Tatsuya had made their way back to their family home, running into his little sister Mayu on the way to the door.

“Hi Sakazaki!” she piped up eagerly, “Onii-chan!”

Tatsuya beamed at the sight of her, letting her run into his arms. Yuuya couldn’t help but feel his spirits slightly lifted when he saw them. For such a laid-back guy without a care in the world, he really cared about his little sister, and she clearly idolized him.

Yuuya wondered if he knew how lucky he was.

The two friends made their way into the Tatsuya household’s basement, where he had a decent video game setup. Mayu had been on the way to her friend’s, so they wouldn’t have to deal with making sure she was alright.

“It’s just us?” Yuuya asked, just to confirm. He hadn’t spoken much all day, but after the incident with Akagawa, his friends had softened a bit and he started to feel a little more comfortable. Still broken inside, sure, still void of any true desire to live, but comfortable in that.

“Yup,” Tatsuya said, disappearing around the corner for a moment, returning with a bottle of vodka in hand, “They’re away for the week. I convinced them to take a little time off.”

Yuuya quirked an eyebrow, “Convinced?”

Tatsuya rolled his eyes and opened the bottle, immediately pouring them both a shot, “They tend to dote on me. Never leave me the fuck alone. They claim they’re ‘worried about me.’” He mimed air quotes.

“Well do they have cause for worry? Grades perhaps?” Yuuya queried, downing the shot as soon as it was poured and placing the glass down expectantly. If anyone in the world needed a drink that day, it was Sakazaki Yuuya. Tatsuya nodded approvingly, drank his own, and poured two more. He thought to himself for a moment, twisting a loose strand of hair before replying.

“Eh, they just like being a pain in my ass,” Tatsuya confirmed, “My grades don’t matter, really. It’s not like I plan on going to college.”

Yuuya wasn’t surprised, but he was still curious, “Why not, anyway? You’re not stupid. If you just pushed yourself–”

“I don’t want to push myself,” Tatsuya interrupted, “That’s the end of the story.”

The harsh dismissive tone he used took Yuuya by surprise. He’d always known Tatsuya was a slacker, but he’d never heard him become so hostile. The boy was always very laid-back, despite being a little bit dense in certain social situations. To hear him so quickly reject discussion about his life or future was off-putting, yet Yuuya realized they very rarely _ever_ spoke of what was going on with him.

What did they ever talk about, anyway? What of substance did the four friends ever really discuss?

 _Three friends,_ Yuuya remembered gravely, _Three now._

“That’s fair enough,” Yuuya attempted to douse the fuse he’d accidentally lit by grabbing the bottle of vodka and pouring them both another shot. Tatsuya raised his eyebrows and smirked.

“Already?”

Yuuya smiled, but there was nothing there, “It’s that kind of day.”

“Tell me about it,” Tatsuya mumbled, taking his shot before could even pour the second one, “But let’s not talk about that. Let’s get smashed and play Smash.”

There was no opposition to that idea. Yuuya’s mind was so awhirl he hardly knew how to function anymore. His thoughts of despair had become his sole identity in the last few weeks. He was losing himself alongside everything else. Maybe it would be beneficial for him to simply focus on some mindless game for a while.

“Sure,” Yuuya agreed, “But I call Chrom.”

“Jesus, take him. Why the fuck do you main Chrom?” Tatsuya whined, hopping up from the couch and starting to set up the game.

“I don’t know,” Yuuya realized, shrugging. He didn’t play this game that much anyway, “I like him. Is there something wrong with that?”

Tatsuya shrugged as well, “I guess not.”

A silence came over them as Tatsuya fiddled with wires and consoles. The game whirred to life and he stood up, handing his friend a controller. For a moment, the two friends looked at each other. Yuuya realized he had hardly ever looked Tatsuya in the eye. Was he projecting when he saw a similar dullness to his eyes, that same lack of life he saw in the mirror?

He shook his head. It was probably just the liquor.

The two friends spent the evening doing copious amounts of shots and playing video games. Deep below the libations, Yuuya could not shake the dread that had been so skillfully embedded in him. He could not escape the hell Iwamine had put him through. The hell he had put himself through.

He could, however, drink the pain away. It worked for many a Dove before him, and if he was lucky, it would work for him too.


End file.
